These Deep Solitudes
by Carfiniel
Summary: AU - Rain McGonagall teaches History of Magic during Harry's fifth year. Remus Lupin has returned for Defense. As children, Rain loved Sirius and Remus loved Rain. Add in Snape and Draco Malfoy, and it's a mess!
1. Return to Hogwarts

**Chapter One - Return to Hogwarts**

_"Where Thou art--that--is Home."_

_-- Emily Dickinson_

Katraina McGonagall strode briskly into the entry hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Her steps, quick and sure, belied the jangling in her nerves.  Hogwarts, after all this time, had changed very little, and the world outside was becoming as grim as it had been in her school days.  It was as if the past fourteen years had never happened.  _Almost_ as if.

"We need a new History of Magic professor," her cousin Minerva had written, "and I'd like to have you close."  Nothing held Rain back from accepting the position; several of her friends had already been recruited for the Phoenix Order--what a shock it had been to see Sirius Black again--and her books could be written at Hogwarts just as easily as they could at Heatherhall.

She climbed the stairs that led towards Minerva's office near Gryffindor Tower.  She had been glad to see Sirius, but he only reminded her of how things had been, long ago, before Godric's Hollow.  She had had to bite her tongue to refrain from asking about Remus, but Sirius had always been able to read her.

"I would have sent Moony, but Dumbledore's sent him on some sort of mission.  I haven't heard from him much this summer."

Rain hugged Sirius and offered him tea, but the delivery of the letter was done, and he had other people to summon.  A black dog left her yard a moment later.

"Umph!"  Lost in her memories, Rain had collided with someone.

"Really, Katraina, I would think you'd be a little more careful!"

"Min!"  Rain hugged her cousin enthusiastically, and after a moment Minerva hugged her back.  When she pulled back, she studied the older woman's face.  "You look tired, Min."

"Things have been difficult since the Third Task," Minerva replied.  "Come up to my office.  Severus has agreed to join us."

Rain nodded and followed silently, keeping her concern over her cousin to herself.  When they were at school, the Marauders had hated Severus; but tagalong Ravenclaw Rain, a year younger, had always seen loneliness lurking in the Slytherin's eyes.  "I appreciate his help," she said.

Severus stood as they entered, and when his eyes met Rain's he drew in an audible breath.  For a minute he stood frozen, wide-eyed, then he swept her a deep bow, startling her.

"Lady McGonagall, you honour us," he murmured, his acerbic tone marred by slight breathlessness.

Rain snorted.  "Drop it, Severus," she suggested.  "You're looking well."

"For someone who's been leading a double life?" he retorted, pure acid now.

Rain lifted an eyebrow.  "I wasn't going to say that."  But it was true.  He was thinner, his face more sallow than in his youth.  There were shadows under his eyes.  If he had only had someone to make him take care of himself--  "Did Minerva tell you?"

"About your…condition?"  He nodded.  "There are several potions that will keep it in check.  They aren't entirely safe, however.  I don't like to mix some of these ingredients.  If it were anyone else--"  He broke off and pressed his lips together, which made him look as if he'd eaten an underripe lemon.

She put a hand on his wrist.  "I understand.  Thank you, Severus."

He stared down at her hand, but she refused to remove it.  She was aware of the lack of a wedding ring on her third finger, as she was also aware of the McGonagall seal on her forefinger.  Let him think what he wanted.

Minerva looked at her sharply.  "If you'll excuse us, Severus."  It wasn't a question.  The Slytherin nodded curtly.  Rain dropped her hand as he swept out of the office.  "I have errands to run in Hogsmeade.  I'll show you your rooms before I go.  I assume Hagrid brought up your trunk?"

Rain grinned.  "Yes, both of them, and my broom."

"They'll be waiting for you, then.  Come along, Katraina.  I'd like to have you settled in before I leave.  I have errands to run in Hogsmeade."

"Yes, you said that," Rain said, amused.  "Min, what are you not telling me?  You know I can read you."

Minerva sighed.  "Better than anyone, I think.  Rain, there are--certain conditions here."  She led the way out of her office and down a narrow staircase.  "I don't know how much I should tell you, and how much I should leave to Albus.  I--I find I'm not quite comfortable--"  She broke off and opened a door, beckoning Rain in behind her.  "Here is your office.  Through the far door is your bedroom and a small private bath.  Yes, Hagrid has brought your trunks.  I really must go, Rain.  I'll see you at dinner."

And quick as a whirlwind, Minerva was gone.  Rain gazed at the empty doorway speculatively, but whatever had Min as jumpy as a cat in the kennels would have to wait, at least until dinner.  She stared about her in happy bemusement.  It had been years since she'd been a student here, and now Hogwarts was hers again.  She looked again at the open door, where the brass nameplate waited blankly to announce her presence.  She pulled out her wand and rested the tip lightly against the brass.  Tracing her name over it, she whispered, "_Engravium_," and smiled when her name flowed across in sparkling blue script.

Turning from the door, Rain went past the empty bookshelves and giant rolltop desk, and opened the bedroom door.  When she saw her room, she laughed with delight.  On the wall opposite the huge curtained four-poster--blue and silver curtains, she noticed--was a large bay window with a deeply cushioned window seat.

"It really is you."

It was a man's voice, soft and slightly hoarse, a voice she would know anywhere, a voice from her past.  She closed her eyes briefly, took a deep breath, and turned.

"Remus."  She drank him with her eyes, tracing his jaw, picking out grey hairs among the longish brown, noticing the fine lines on his face.  She noted the slumped shoulders and patched clothing.  Then she met his eyes and saw the wary joy that brimmed up in them.  She smiled widely at him.  "Remus," she said again.

He took another step and she went to him, reaching to clasp both his hands.  He smiled down at her, and she wondered if he was as at a loss for words as she.  He lifted one hand and touched her face with two tentative fingers.

"Rainy Day," he murmured, and she was seized by an almost overwhelming desire to throw herself into his arms.  One of the last times he had called her that was at James and Lily's funeral, when he held her as they mourned the loss of their three friends and tried to encompass the supposed betrayal of another.

"Moony," she whispered with a hint of mischief creeping into her smile.

"Great heavens, it's _good_ to see you, Rain."  He sounded thunderstruck.

Her smile escaped from her and she beamed at him.  "I have missed you terribly," she said, fighting back the tears that threatened.  _But why did you stay away so long?_ she wanted to add.

His expression became more solemn.  "Have you?"

She nodded, and his fingers tightened around hers.  "I'm glad you're here."

Her owl, Arcanus, swept in through the open window and landed on Rain's shoulder.  Remus offered a finger to stroke his head, and the owl nipped it swiftly.  "Arcanus!" she exclaimed, "Stop that!  I'm sorry, Remus.  He's dreadfully cranky in this weather."  She sighed.  "Oh, who am I kidding, he's dreadfully cranky all the time."

Remus laughed.  "You should feed him better."

"Mm.  This letter's for you," she said, surprised.  And there was no mistaking the hand: the bold, untidy scrawl of Sirius in haste.

Remus opened it, and a moment later chuckled.  "The man needs to work on his timing--Padfoot writes me to tell me he's sent you here."

"Still taking care of his friends," Rain sighed.  "I wish I hadn't doubted him."

"It looked bad for him," Remus replied.  "Though I've reprimanded myself for it often enough.  If we could only make the Ministry see reason..."  The hand holding Sirius' letter clenched into a fist briefly, then relaxed.  "I'm sorry, Rain.  I'm sure you want to unpack.  May I come by and see you to dinner?"

He had withdrawn again, into the protective fortress that was his heart.  Rain's shoulders slumped.  "Yes, yes.  Please do."  She managed to smile at him, but after he left, the room seemed quite grey.

~ * ~

She had her books all sorted out before sunset, and took the time to wash and redo her hair, pinned up off her neck.  It felt strange to be back in Hogwarts, yet somehow it was freeing, as well.  She performed a few small cosmetic charms, hands shaking, while she waited for Remus to return.  When the door announced, "A handsome gentleman to see you, dear," however, it was not Remus who stood in the hall.

"You make me blush, Miss McGonagall."

"Headmaster," she said, her heart lifting.  

He smiled kindly at her.  "It is a pleasure to see you again, Rain.  I am very glad indeed that you accepted my invitation.  I have already seen a smile on Remus Lupin's face.  It has been missing for many months."

"Now you're making me blush," she replied frankly.

To her astonishment Dumbledore laughed loud and long.  "A breath of fresh air," he proclaimed, eyes dancing.  "And yet, I am afraid even that may prove sorrowful to some."

"Headmaster?"

"I would ask you, Rain, to be very careful with young Severus.  These times have been a strain on him."  
  


Rain's mouth fell open.  He was concerned about Snape?  But why tell her this?  "I--I'm afraid I don't understand, sir."

"Don't you?  Very well.  Perhaps I am mistaken.  But I am certain I caught him being gallant this afternoon.  He and the remaining Marauders have forged a very unhappy alliance.  It is necessary if we are to defeat Voldemort, Rain."

"Are you saying I could upset it?"

Dumbledore sighed.  "I remember your time here as a student, Rain.  A singular child, though perhaps it is simply the traits of the McGonagall clan.  You were the only one of James Potter's friends to be kind to Severus Snape in all his time here.  Be assured that he has not forgotten either.  And I distinctly remember a starry-eyed young Remus Lupin watching you watch Sirius Black."

She really was blushing.  She put one hand up to her face.  "Are all students so transparent?" she asked dryly.

He smiled.  "Most are, I'm afraid.  But I admit we watched you rather closely, as a friend of the Marauders."

"Sir, I won't--"  She took a deep breath.  "I won't deny that I--that is--I'm glad Remus is here.  I didn't realize what I--what was--er, until it was too late.  After we lost Lily, James, Sirius, and Peter, all at once, Remus disappeared.  Perhaps he was trying to draw the danger away from me, I don't know.  But it hurt a great deal, losing him, too."

"Believe me when I say I am certain that it hurt him, as well," Dumbledore said softly.  "And now, I think..."

"Another handsome gentleman!" the door exclaimed.  "My, you are the popular one today, dearie."  And it swung open to reveal a surprised Remus.

"Ah, good evening, Remus," Dumbledore said, smiling.  "I believe it must be dinnertime."

"Will you join us, Headmaster?" Remus asked.

"No, no, I have Cornelius Fudge coming to see me," he replied.  "Another round on the Voldemort issue, I'm afraid."  He bowed and headed down the hall.

"You look lovely," Remus murmured, and Rain blushed again.

"Thank you," she said.  She wanted to tell him how wonderful he looked, too, but she was seized by a sudden shyness.

She had only felt shy around him once before, when Sirius took Kitty Bliss to his Leavers Ball.  Sirius had already asked Rain when Kitty became available, and Rain found herself discarded.  The marvelous dream that he would finally love her had fizzled into embarrassment and hurt.  She hadn't even been angry at him, silly git that she'd been.  It had been Remus who got angry for her.  Remus, who was always so carefully controlled, the voice of reason among the Marauders, wise beyond his age.  Remus, whom she had only once seen angry, when Sirius nearly got Snape killed.  Remus' anger was a frightening thing to witness.  And after seeing it roused to her own defense, Rain had felt shy with him.

"You're a million miles away," Remus said in amusement.  "You just tried to walk into a suit of armour."

"Did I?"  Rain smiled.  "No, just twenty years."

"Yes," he said.  He wore a faint smile as he looked down the hallway.  "I've been there myself today."

~*~

Rain sat between Remus and Minerva at dinner, after being welcomed enthusiastically by her former professors.  Sybil Trelawney deigned to join them, and gasped when she took Rain's hand.  "My dear, your hand is as cold as death!  A very bad omen…I fear your time with us may be short."

Rain smiled.  "You're looking quite well, Professor Trelawney.  Did you get new spectacles?"

The divinations professor gave her a misty smile.  "Why, yes, dear.  How kind of you to notice."

Hagrid enveloped her in a hairy hug.  "It's good to see yeh, Rain.  Professor Dumbledore's happy yer here--great man, Dumbledore."  He glanced around and lowered his voice.  "And just wait til yeh see what I got for my Care of Magical Creatures class."

Rain forced a weak smile, wondering how many people would get hurt in his class.  Those Blast-Ended Skrewts had looked terrifying in the Daily Prophet photos.

Professor Flitwick complimented her on her door's Butler Charm, and Snape nodded silently at her from the other end.  On Remus' left, Madame Hooch made a crack at her about the Cannons, and Professor Sprout looked up from her book on magical herbs long enough to smile warmly at her.

The meal was nearly over when a large owl swooped in and landed in front of Minerva.  She opened the letter and gasped.  As Rain watched, her cousin turned a shade she had never seen, even on a ghost.  She took several deep breaths and turned wide green eyes towards her.

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have vanished!"

The entire table heard her, and instantly all conversation died.  Rain put a hand on Minerva's wrist and looked at Remus.  He seemed stunned.

"Does the headmaster know?" she asked.

Min shook her head slowly.  "He and Fudge are dining at the Three Broomsticks."  She gripped Rain's hand very tightly.  "He needs to be told.  Rain, will you--will you come with me to Hogsmeade?"

Surprised, Rain nodded.  In her memory, Minerva had never asked _anyone_ for help.  She wondered what the rest of the letter said.

Minerva stood up and fixed her hat firmly on her head.  "Poor Albus, he'll be terribly concerned--oh, hurry, Rain!"

It was painful to see Minerva this upset.  Rain looked at Remus, who nodded.  "I'll talk to you later," he murmured.  "I need to send an owl to Padfoot."

Rain followed Minerva down to the Entrance Hall.  Her cousin walked so briskly that Rain was out of breath keeping up with her.  When they were quite a ways along the road to Hogsmeade, Minerva slowed and put a hand up to cover her face.  Rain saw with amazement that she was crying.

"Min," she said hesitantly.  She put her hand on her cousin's arm.  "Min, is there more?  Something worse?"

Minerva choked and said,  "Alastor Moody and Bill Weasley were with them.  Alastor was found...the Dark Mark...Avada Kedavra."  
  


"And Bill?" Rain asked, thinking back to the very nice redheaded boy a few years behind her at Hogwarts.

"Nowhere.  They found--they found his dragon fang earring."  Min pulled out a lace handkerchief and wiped her eyes.  "That's all."

"Do the Weasleys know?"

"I'm sure they are being informed.  Oh, Rain, what a horrible way for the term to begin.  Harry is so important--if we lose him--"

"I'm sure we'll find them before school starts," Rain interrupted.  She was feeling decidedly more uncomfortable with each passing second.  "We have a week, haven't we?"  She tried to put confidence in her tone, but she knew she had failed.  What would happen to the wizarding world, if the Boy Who Lived was killed?

~*~

Dumbledore took the news much more calmly than Minerva had, and Rain wondered, not for the first time, if this calm acceptance was a product of divination, or just wise foresight.  He sat back in his chair and looked somewhat regretful.  "So that is your decision, Mr. Malfoy," he murmured.

"Not again!" groaned Cornelius Fudge.  Rain fought a desire to scowl at him--she was a teacher now, for goodness sake!--but had a hard time.  His denial of Voldemort's return was going to cause a lot of needless suffering.  "I hoped, after that regrettable incident with his aunt and the Knight Bus, that he would have learned his lesson about running away.  He's been growing more unbalanced with every year.  I shall have to send Arthur Weasley out to find him.  If Sirius Black gets wind of this--"

"I sincerely hope that no one will get wind of this, Cornelius," Dumbledore interrupted, his voice quiet yet stern.  "Now is not the time to create a panic."

Fudge looked at him and snapped his mouth shut.  He cleared his throat.  "Well, of course, I shall not spread the story, but the press--well, the press is persistent, isn't it?  I must be going."  He stood up and tried to sweep his pinstriped cloak around his shoulders.  "Good evening, Dumbledore.  Ladies."  He nodded and left.

"What did you mean earlier, Headmaster?" Rain asked.  "About Mr. Malfoy?  Did you mean Lucius Malfoy?"

Dumbledore folded his hands and gazed up at her, his brow furrowed in thought; even this concern did not diminish the twinkle in his eyes.  "Draco Malfoy.  You, of course, remember his father.  Lucius Malfoy is a known Death Eater."

"And you think Draco has taken that step?" Minerva repeated.  "Oh, Albus.  I know you hoped to influence him."

Dumbledore smiled faintly.  "It is never too late, Minerva.  Just look at Severus."

"Severus?" Rain said, more sharply than she had intended.  "He--he truly went over?"  
  


"And returned to us, bringing information," Minerva confirmed.

"He has risked himself for us time after time.  It is not an enviable task, and it is one I loathe placing him in," Dumbledore added.  "But he has saved us all, more than once."

Rain shivered.  She had never imagined Severus would truly go to the dark side.  He had been nasty and ambitious as a student, but she had never imagined him to be evil, just--

"Misunderstood," Dumbledore finished, obviously pleased with himself.  Rain started, realizing she'd missed something.

"I'd have to say Remus is the best choice," Minerva replied.  They both looked at Rain, and she wondered why they sought her opinion, and about what.

"If the Dark Arts are involved, I would think the Defense teacher would be best qualified," she hedged.

Minerva stared at her in astonishment, and Dumbledore hid a smile.  "We were discussing whether Severus or Remus would better serve as your escort to London," he offered.

"Oh dear."  Better to give in now than dig herself deeper.  "Why am I going to London?" she asked meekly.

Dumbledore's smile widened.  "I thought you'd never ask."


	2. Bookshops and Busses

**Chapter Two - Bookshops and Busses**

_"Memory is not so brilliant as hope, but it is more beautiful, and a thousand times as true."_

_-- George Dennison Prentice_

_"We were happier when we were poorer, but we were also younger."_

_-- Charles Lamb_

"Quit fidgeting," Rain said for the second time, glancing at Remus.  She hid her smile by turning to look out the window.  In less than a week this compartment would be full of students heading back to Hogwarts.  Minerva seemed to think there would be fewer students, and wasn't sure if there would be any first years at all.

Remus' hand closed over hers and pulled it away from her face.  "You're a fine one to talk," he said.  She heard the smile in his voice, and his touch sent a tingle shooting up her arm.  "You're acting like a first year in the sorting line."

She shot a rueful glance at the ragged fingernails on her left hand.  "I suppose you're right."  They really needed to be repainted; the Burnt Ogre colour had chipped and faded to A Bit Singed Ogre.  She sighed.  "Dumbledore's put a lot of faith in us.  What if our errand doesn't help them find Harry and Draco?"

"Focus, Rainy Day!  Stop thinking of Harry and Draco--what a combination!  I almost pity their kidnappers--and think first about Diagon Alley."

"Mmm."  She noticed he hadn't let go of her fingers.  She slid her thumb experimentally across his.  He kept talking, but coloured faintly.

"It's a wonder Dumbledore got Mundungus to help us out; after last year, he's justifiably a bit more paranoid than usual."

"And that's saying something," she agreed, relenting.  It was nice to see she could get a reaction from him.

There was a tap at the compartment door and he dropped her hand and shot to his feet.  It was a smiling woman--surely not the same one, after all these years?--with the food trolley.  Remus bought two meat pasties and tea.  He offered some to Rain.

"Thank you."  She smiled at him and saw the slow warming of his amber eyes as he smiled back.

"Your books," he said abruptly.  "I've enjoyed them.  I liked _The Defiant Muggle_ the best, I think.  What a fellow, Churchill.  Took a lot of praise, didn't it?"  
  


She felt her face heat.  "You've been paying attention," she remarked, surprised at how dry she sounded.  "It was popular.  Everyone knows Dumbledore's part in defeating Grindelwald, but not too many wizards care too much about the Muggle side of World War II."

"I rather liked _The Reluctant Hero_, too," Remus said, glancing slyly at her.  "Not many people out there writing sympathetic books about high-profile werewolves."

"Well, after all, Minister Latrans was very important in ending the Napoleonic Wars.  It's not his fault--well, I suppose it is, in a way; those poor children--but still, it isn't fair that people overlook the good things he did, just because of one accident."

"It's like that though," Remus said sombrely.  "Never know when you might hurt someone.  Always have to be careful.  This year is going to be different than my first year teaching."

A tinny voice announced the last stop, saving her from having to answer.  Rain felt her pulse speed up.  King's Cross, and then Diagon Alley and their meeting with Mundungus Fletcher.

~*~

The Leaky Cauldron was filled with people, but Mundungus Fletcher wasn't one of them.  Remus ordered butterbeer for them both and put a hand on Rain's elbow to guide her to a table.  She felt her breath catch at that casually familiar touch.

"Did you hear someone told the Ministry they'd spotted Sirius Black in Cornwall?"  The voice rose above the other conversations, and any reply to the strident question was inaudible, but Remus' fingers tightened on her arm.  When they reached the empty corner table, his brows were creased by a frown.  He released her arm and sat down in the chair next to hers, moving it slightly away from her.

"Padfoot is terribly concerned about Harry," he said.  "He did write how glad he was to see you again.  He wanted to know what you'd thought of his time in Az--in That Place--asked if you thought it would scar a man permanently."

Rain shot him a quizzical look.  "Why would he ask me?  I'm only the History of Magic teacher.  He ought to ask Madame Pomfrey."

"He wanted your opinion specially, Rain," Remus said, his expression unreadable.

"Well," Rain said, and paused.  Why did he need her opinion…a woman's opinion?  Was he thinking of his influence on Harry?  Had he met a nice girl somewhere?  She sighed.  "I think it would scar someone permanently, yes.  But if his friends loved him enough, they could get past it.  It wouldn't be easy."

Remus' shoulders slumped.  "Of course."  He met her eyes and seemed ready to add more, but an excited voice interrupted.

"Remus Lupin!  How marvelous, absolutely spiffing to see you again, old chap!  And is this lovely thing Minerva's little cousin?  You old dog!"  Mundungus dug an elbow into Remus' ribs as he sat down, a tankard of cider in his hand.

Remus rubbed his ribs, looking slightly pained.  "Mundungus," he said equably.  "I hope you're well."

"Would be, would be, if it weren't for all this business with Potter.  Poor bloke.  Stuck with a Malfoy."

"Unless this young Draco was in on the plan, and only disappeared to seem innocent," Rain suggested, keeping her voice low.  The suspicion had been growing in her mind as she learned more about the boy.  And yet…she thought of Severus, and wondered if there were more to Malfoy than she had heard.

"I don't think so," Remus said reflectively.  "It seems wrong somehow."

"Those Malfoys are a bad lot," Fletcher said.  "But no doubt we'll find out sooner or later.  In the meantime, you're to wait here for word from Arthur Weasley.  He wants to speak with you about something, asked me to set up a meeting.  We've sent Aurors out, of course, but Arthur's really the brains behind the search effort.  Aurors these days," he added with a snort.  "Should never have pensioned off old Moody."  He shook his head sadly.  "Though I suppose he went in the harness, in the end."

"To Alastor Moody, then," said Remus, lifting his butterbeer, and they drank.

"Well, then, I'll be off," Fletcher said.  "Busy day tomorrow.  Here's a little light reading for you, courtesy of Arthur."  He dropped a thick yellow envelope on the table between them, and left.

Remus looked down at it, his face grim.  "Poor Alastor."  He picked up the envelope and removed two smaller envelopes, one addressed to Rain and one to him.  "I suppose we ought to read these tonight.  Dumbledore reserved two rooms for us.  I think I'll head up to bed."

"I'll walk with you," Rain said.  He handed her the envelope with her name on it and stood up.

Tom led them to a suite on the third floor.  From the sitting room, doors led to two bedrooms, separated by a balcony.  He carried Rain's bag into her room and checked the fire.  "Lovely bloke, then," he said, grinning toothlessly at her.  "Don't let 'im slip away now, lassie."

Rain gave him a brittle smile.  "I won't."

~*~

Remus waited in the sitting room as Tom settled Rain.  His thoughts were whirling as they so rarely did.  Level-headed Moony, that was him--except where Rain was concerned.

Tom came out and unlocked his room for him, then offered him the key.  "She'm a lovely lass," he offered, taking Remus' battered satchel into the room.  "Be sure to take care of her, now."

Remus' throat ached.  He swallowed hard.  "Yes, sir," he managed.  Hopefully Tom didn't notice the strain in his voice.  "Wake me early, please," he said, and then Tom was gone and he was alone.

Unless you counted misery and memories as company.

Oh, Rain.  For two blissful days he had believed in true joy, had honestly thought he might have a chance at happiness.  He had believed Rain was more glad to see him than mere friendship warranted.  That somehow he had a chance with her now.

He had written to Sirius about Harry, and received the strange reply:  Sirius already knew, keep him informed of EVERYthing, and could Moony ask Rain what she thought of him?

He didn't know why the pain of it surprised him.  He had loved Katraina McGonagall for twenty years, and Sirius had never paid attention to her until now.

"Not true," he said aloud to the empty room.  "He was going to take her to the Leavers Ball."  Remus had frequently resented how Sirius ignored Rain's devotion, but he had rarely been as furious with his best friend as he had over the Leavers Ball.  He would never forget the emptiness in Rain's eyes when she told him Sirius had cancelled their plans.  He had never seen her cry until that day, and her tears had frightened him inexplicably.

_He put his arms around her awkwardly, and she turned, burying her face in his chest, clinging to him.  "Rain," he said.  "Oh, Rainy Day.  I'll kill him.  Ass.  Bloody imbecile.  I'll kill him."_

_"Oh, no, Remus!  Don't be angry at him.  After all, every boy wanted to take Katie Bliss.  He'll be really happy."_

_"Don't you stick up for him!" Remus ordered.  "He's an ass.  Plenty of guys didn't want to go with her.  James.  Me."_

_"James has Lily."_

And I have no one._  As he looked down at her, the idea struck him with frightening force.  "You'll show him.  Go with me, Rain."  He held his breath._

_Rain's sobs abated.  "You, Remus?" she breathed, looking up at him.  His shirt, he noticed, was soaked through, but he forgot that when her green eyes met his.  "Yes, you're right."  She sniffed.  "We'll have fun."_

_She pulled away then, perhaps feeling as awkward as he did.  When she realized she had potions in five minutes and ran off in a panic, Remus had gone back to the Gryffindor common room, where Sirius and James were playing a game on exploding snap while Lily looked on.  Remus' anger was simmering dangerously, and when he saw Sirius laughing, oblivious to the fact that he had just broken Rain's heart, his anger boiled over._

_He crossed the room in four angry strides and punched Sirius in the jaw.  For all his thin frame, Remus had the strength of the werewolf in him, and he had connected soundly.  Sirius fell back, cracking the back of his head against a chair._

_"What the--"_

_"You stupid great prat!" Remus spat at him.  "I hope you're happy with yourself."_

_Sirius' dark eyes glittered with shock and pain.  "What are you on about?"_

_"Remus, really--" James began._

_"Shut it, James," Remus warned.  "This is between this bloody idiot and me."_

_"Are you mad?" Sirius asked, wiping blood from his lip._

_"I'm not.  But you must be."  He pulled back his fist, ready to jog Sirius' memory.  But a hand touched his arm._

_"Remus, what is this about?" asked Lily's calm voice._

_"Ask him," Remus replied, his voice tight.  He jerked his chin at Sirius.  "Ask him who he's taking to the Leavers Ball."_

_"We all know!" James cried, beginning to get impatient.  "He's taking Rain McGonagall.  What is this about, Moony?"_

_Remus' eyes were fixed on Sirius'.  Suddenly his friend looked a bit shifty.  "Well, I--"  He broke off._

_"Go on," Remus ordered grimly.  "Tell them."_

_"What is it, Sirius?"  And none of them could lie to Lily.  Sirius looked down._

_"Well, see, Katie Bliss broke up with Roger Bell, see, and--"_

_"Padfoot!" James exclaimed, twigging._

_"Oh, Sirius, you didn't," Lily said._

_Sirius scowled.  "Rain understands.  She's a sweet kid, but she's just a sixth year, anyway.  She'll have her ball next year."_

_"She understands," Remus repeated flatly.  "Oh, good.  That explains why the front of my robe is soaked, then."_

_"Sirius!"  That was all Lily said, but in her tone was such reproach that Sirius hung his head._

_"Lily," Remus said, unpinning his gaze from his friend and turning his back on him.  "Lily, would you go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?  I need to buy a new dress robe."_

_Her eyes--bottle green, darker than Rain's--lit up, and she bestowed a brilliant Lily smile on him.  "Of course I will, Remus!  How wonderful."_

_"Wonderful?  Why are you so damn angry then, Moony?" Sirius growled.  "If you're taking Rain, everything's fine.  Why do you care if I don't take her?"_

_His tight rein on his temper snapped.  "Because I love her!" he howled.  "I love her, and she loves you!"_

Remus shivered, bringing himself back to the present.  "And that's still the case, isn't it, Sirius?" he murmured, and threw himself down on his bed, the envelope forgotten.  But sleep was a long time in coming.

**~*~ **

The next day, Rain was already awake and sitting at the table with a book when Tom brought up a breakfast tray, laden with enough food for two.  "I'll just pop over to wake Mr. Lupin, luv," he said, and vanished.

Remus stumbled in a few minutes later, rubbing his forehead and squinting.  Rain stared at him, shocked by his haggard appearance.  "You look like something the cat brought in," she said before she could stop herself.

He grimaced and sat down across from her.  "Thank you, Rain.  It is consummately unfair that you, then, should be so chipper."

She laughed and poured a cup of coffee.  "Here.  Maybe you'll feel more human after you drink this."

He drew back and instinctively she wished she could recall the words.  "Oh, I'm so sorry!  I wasn't thinking--oh, Remus, I just _forget_ sometimes!"

His mouth quirked in a bemused smile.  "Forget," he murmured.  "You truly are a treasure.  Sirius--"  But he closed his mouth and frowned.

"I didn't mean to--" she began, blushing, and he shook his head.

"I know.  You didn't hurt my feelings, Rain.  It's nice to know you think of me as human."

She felt her face get hot.  "Who wouldn't?" she cried.  "You are good and kind and wise--"

He held up a hand, laughing.  "I'm no saint, either."  He snorted.  "Saint Remus, patron of beastly transformations."

He was joking about his lycanthropy!  Rain stared.  "You've changed," she said, her voice small.  Suddenly she felt the huge gulf of years between them, years in which he had existed only in her dreams, and she had been only words on a page to him.  How could they ever bridge that chasm of loneliness?  As she stared at him, his grin began to fade.  "How could you go off alone for all those years?" she whispered.  "Without a word?  And shut me out of your life?"

"Oh, Rain, never.  I just--"  He paused, and her heart sped up.  "I suppose I felt that as long as I could believe you safe in your castle, untouched--happy--I could still have faith that all would be well."

Rain felt tears spring up in her eyes.  She reached across and took his hand, making him drop his toast.  "Happy?" she heard herself say, though she really hadn't meant to.  "Without you?"

He flashed a surprised smile at her, but before he could speak they heard a tapping at the window.  Remus looked up and his whole demeanor changed; his smile vanished, his shoulders slumped.  He stood up, escaping her hand, and went to the window.  Rain stared at his empty seat and took a bite of dry toast.

"It's from Sirius," he announced shortly.  "He's had word from Harry.  He says he's all right, and that he'll be at school."

"What?"  She stood up and went to look over his shoulder.  He moved away from her slightly, and she frowned.

"He doesn't explain much in this," Remus said.  "He wants us to meet him...he's in Hunter's Combe."

"Harry?"

"No, Sirius.  He has something to give us.  Tonight, at eight o'clock...on the manor grounds, good heavens!"

"What?"

"Mmm.  He's pestering Lady Greythorne while he's there.  Shame!  You would have thought abandoning her niece--"  He snapped his mouth shut and slapped the parchment against his hand.  "Well, while we're in London I might as well pick up some supplies.  Would you like to come shopping with me, Rain?"  
  


"Abandoning?" she repeating, frowning at his attempt to change the subject.  "Did Sirius--"

"Well, he was seeing Julara Greythorne at the time, wasn't he?" Remus said, and she thought he sounded a trifle defensive.  "Got himself thrown in Azkaban.  Not that Jules cares now, of course; but the Lady has a long memory."

"Well, after all, what female could resist the famous Padfoot charm?" Rain said, thinking to make him laugh.  He frowned slightly at her instead, obviously not amused.  As she was puzzling over what to say next, he turned away.

"Flourish and Blotts first, I think," he said.  "And I should like to visit Quality Quidditch Supplies for a belated present for Harry."

_What have I done?_ Rain wondered, draining her teacup.  "Give a girl a few minutes to get ready, will you?" she called after him.  He lifted a hand and vanished into his room.  

"Hmph!"  She piled her hair into an untidy bun and slipped into green robes and comfortable shoes.  As she reached for her wand, the bracelet on her left wrist slid off onto the table.  She grabbed at it and examined the clasp before putting it back on.  "Reparo!" she muttered, poking it with her wand.  With a quick glance in the mirror ("Lovely, dear, but couldn't you have brushed your hair?") she ran out to the hall.

Remus was waiting for her on the landing.  "I need to go to Gringotts first, please," she said.  "I've left all my personal money at Hogwarts."  He nodded and offered his arm.  She accepted with a thrill of pleasure, and they headed through the back courtyard to Diagon Alley.

At Gringotts Rain carefully blocked Remus' view of her vault--no need to remind him of her wealth or his lack thereof--and took what she thought would be enough.  When the rail car deposited them back in the lobby, Remus touched her arm.  As she looked up at him, he seemed almost self-conscious.

"I need to ask a favour of you."  He held out his money pouch.  "Could you change the sickles for me?"

She had never thought of the trouble a werewolf would have handling wizarding money.  She accepted the bag and approached one of the goblins, trying to remember how Remus used to buy things on Hogsmeade weekends.  The goblin didn't bat an eye at changing all the silver for gold or bronze, and she wondered if it were a commonplace request; how many werewolves were there in Britain, anyway?

Back in the bright sunshine, Rain allowed Remus to steer her first to Flourish and Blotts, where they browsed contentedly for half an hour before Remus purchased two books on curses and one on countercurses.  Rain selected a book about classical Muggle music, _Hogwarts: A History, and a small grey volume whose title was noted only on the inside:  __Werewolves and the Humans Who Love Them.  The clerk noted the title and--instead of looking disgusted--smiled at her._

"Studying up on curses for some special occasion, Mr. Lupin?" he said. 

"I _am a professor, Chumley," Remus said mildly._

"We'll, if you're planning a present for Pettigrew, toss in something for me."

Shocked, Rain stared at him, but he finished wrapping her books in brown paper and smiled benignly at her.  "Seven sickles your change, miss," he said.  She thanked him and followed Remus out of the bookstore.

"One of Padfoot's old friends," he said once they were on the pavement once again.  "Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Azkaban.  Dumbledore has had me contacting a lot of the old crowd.  Padfoot's one of our best, you know, and he can't do his work if everyone believes he's working for Lord Voldemort."

A middle-aged witch passing by looked at Remus with a scandalized expression and hurried past.  Rain tried to laugh.  "Be careful, Remus," she said.  "You're scaring people."

Remus sighed and scratched the back of his neck.  "What did you buy?" he asked, apparently to reach a more mundane topic of conversation.

Rain blushed until she felt her auburn roots prickling--curse the porcelain skin that refused to tan but showed her emotions so well!  "Mm," she replied intelligently.  "_Hogwarts: A History_."

"Oh, Hermione Granger will love you for that," Remus murmured.

"A book about classical music, and one on folklore."

"Folklore?"  Remus glanced curiously at her.  "What sort?"

"Oh, nothing important," she stammered, shrugging.  She tried, under cover of the motion, to shift the book further from his reach.

He was almost too quick for her.  He darted around her, a mischievous look in his eyes that had been absent, she suspected, since James and Lily died.  "What is it, Rain?" he asked.  "The casting and use of love spells?"

"Moony!" she protested, dodging and nearly running into an elderly wizard.  "Sorry!" she called after the man.

Remus captured her left wrist in one slender but deceptively powerful hand.  "Very well, Rainstorm," he said, using Sirius' favourite nickname for her.  "Fess up!  Are you trying to learn how to have Snape kidnapped by Queen Mab?  Going to try to find a genie who'll give you wishes?  You've got me curious!"

"Oh, Moony!" she exclaimed, twisting in an effort to get away.  "Really!"  They were beginning to attract attention, with the normally sedate Remus rough-housing as if they were still school-children.  "You're acting like Padfoot!"

"What if I am?  You make me feel young again, Rain!"  He grinned, apparently unaware it was doing devastating things to her heart.  He reached for the books in her other hand, and she pulled them quickly behind her back.

Instead of giving up, as a younger Remus might have done in the face of opprobrium, he took a step towards her, throwing her off balance.  His fingers closed on the book just before she fell backwards against a shop wall.  The impact knocked the books from both their hands, and he leaned down smoothly as she darted for them.  He swept them easily out of her reach, and she gave up, leaning against the wall for support as she watched him remove the book cover from his prize.

When he opened the book, he stared open-mouthed at the title page for a very long minute.  It was as startled as Rain had ever seen him.  He took a step back, then stopped and straightened to meet her shocked gaze.  His golden eyes seemed to have ignited.

"Rain," he breathed, almost as if he were afraid.  But afraid of what?

She opened her mouth, unsure what she could say.  I love you, crossed her mind, but it seemed too vast and frightening; how would he react to that?  "I...Remus, I--"

"Professor Lupin?  Professor McGonagall?"  It was a young woman's hesitant voice, sounding as if she were torn between being amused and being appalled.  Rain exhaled slowly, half irritated and half relieved at the interruption.  She and Remus stared at one another for a moment longer before he turned to face the girl.  As he moved, he unblocked Rain's view of her, and the girl let out a surprised, "Oh!"

Rain didn't recognize her, so why did the girl know her name?  Remus appeared to, though.  He smiled.  "Hermione, it's nice to see you.  Have you had a good summer?"

"Well, it's been a little anxious, hasn't it?" she said frankly.  "I hope you've been well.  I'm sorry," she added to Rain.  "You look a lot like one of my professors.  Though, of course, much younger than Professor McGonagall."

Remus chuckled.  "I've said before that you're the cleverest witch your age that I've ever met," he said, and the bushy-haired girl looked pleased, if a little confused.  "I'd like you to meet Rain McGonagall, Minerva's cousin and your new History of Magic professor."

At this, Hermione looked positively thrilled.  "Really?" she squealed.  "Oh, how marvelous!  I mean, Professor Binns is--well, he's, um, very dead," she finished lamely.

Rain laughed.  "Just as dead as when Remus and I were students," she agreed.  "But the Headmaster seems finally to have made him understand that."

"Oh," Hermione said.  "You were at school with Professor Lupin and Sirius?"

Rain nodded.  "Remus was likely my best friend at Hogwarts," she said, glancing at him.  She was rewarded with another glowing look.

"Then you must have know...Harry's parents," Hermione said softly.

Rain took a breath and then nodded again.  "Yes.  Though I was a Ravenclaw and a year behind them--Remus and I met in the library, and he introduced me to the rest of them."

Hermione smiled at her, brown eyes lighting in recognition of a kindred spirit.  Rain suddenly found herself looking forward to teaching the fifth years.  "Professor Lupin," Hermione said, turning back to him, "what have you been doing for the past two years?"

"Oh, this and that," he said with a vague smile.  "Dumbledore had work for me to do.  I've kept busy, certainly, and I've only left myself a week to prepare for Hogwarts."

"You're coming back?"  Hermione clasped her hands together in frank gladness.  "Oh, Professor, how wonderful!  And very nice for Harry, too...I think it's been a bad summer for him.  And he listens to you."

"I'm flattered."  Remus gave Rain an amused look.  "And have you heard from Harry and Ron this summer?"

Hermione blushed.  "Well, of course," she said, her voice a tiny bit higher.  "Harry owls me a few times a month, and Ron--well, about every week."  Her blushed deepened.  "Harry was supposed to be visiting Ron right now; I thought they were going to meet me here today."

"I had an owl from Sirius today that seemed to imply they might be delayed a bit," Remus said, flickering a glance at Rain.

"Ron, too?"

"I'm afraid I don't know."

"Oh."  Her shoulders slumped, and Rain bit back a grin.  It was obvious which of the two she fancied.

"Well, we'll leave you to your school shopping, Hermione," Remus said.  "We've business to attend to, I'm afraid.  I expect if you check your letter, you'll see that you'll be needing a copy of _Hogwarts: A History this year."_

Hermione's eyes lit up.  "Oh, Professor Rain, you're wonderful!" she exclaimed, and raced off to Flourish and Blotts as the two teachers laughed.

"Wonderful indeed," Remus murmured, holding her gaze.  She felt her face heat.

"Quality Quidditch Supplies," he announced after a moment, breaking the tension with his cheerful tone.  As he led the way across the street, Rain noticed that he held the book _Werewolves and the Humans Who Love Them_ very close.

~*~

Remus was still thinking about Rain's choice of reading material as they prepared to go to Hunter's Combe that night.  Why had she purchased that particular book?  Could it mean what he wished it did?  She had definitely wanted to keep it from him--was she afraid to tell him she cared for him, or did she just want to keep it from him because she didn't care for him?  He had been feeling strangely vulnerable to her since their rough-housing in the morning.  They had had a delightfully irresponsible lunch of sundaes at Florean Fortescue's, and had spent the afternoon browsing along Diagon Alley.  Rain had disappeared into Madam Malkin's for a while as Remus stocked up on herbs, and she had returned with a good-sized package.

She wasn't wearing one of the new robes when she met him downstairs at the Leaky Cauldron for dinner, however.  Like him, she was dressed in black Muggle clothes; black, he thought, brought out the brighter red highlights of her auburn hair.  They ate their meal in silence, alternating embarrassed glances.  He would glance at her to find her eyes on him, and she looked away.  Then as he memorized the expression and lines of her face, she would look up and catch him.  He was relieved when she drained her butterbeer and stood up.

"Ready?" she asked, smiling at him.  "I believe we can take the bus."

"Ready," he repeated with a tiny smile.

They left the Leaky Cauldron and ventured out into Muggle London to catch their bus.  Once they were properly settled on the crowded vehicle, Remus found himself biting his tongue to avoid talking about the book.

Of course he couldn't.  Perhaps she hadn't looked at it closely enough to realize it was meant for lovers, rather than friends or family.  Perhaps she was simply curious.  Really it would probably make her embarrassed or angry if he brought it up.  He had never felt this uncertain about anything in his life.  He sighed.

"What's wrong?" she asked, leaning her head back to look at his face.  Her eyes, he thought, were exactly moss-coloured at that instant.  He smiled involuntarily at her.

"Just thinking," he replied.

She smiled impishly back at him.  "Fancy that.  About what?"

How should he answer that question?  Should he just say, "About you," and have out with it?  He resisted the urge to sigh again.  "Mmm.  The history of magic.  Why did Binns step down?  Dumbledore opened the position for you on purpose, didn't he?"

She tilted her head to one side and shrugged.  "I'm not certain.  I _believe_ he did--Minerva's letter seemed to imply that was the case--but he didn't say.  I had rather hoped you would know."

He shook his head.  "Hmm."  Drat, what to say next...  He glanced out the window at the darkening streets.  They were nearing the outskirts of London now, and the sun was setting.  The silence between them grew comfortably, and he allowed it to remain unbroken.  When he turned to look at her again, her eyes were nearly closed.

"Bit sleepy, are we?" he teased, in a soft voice.

She smiled and scooted down in her seat.  "Mm.  Public transport does this to me.  D'you know, I fell asleep on the train to Hogwarts just a few days ago."

"I see, so I should feel honoured that you stayed awake for me yesterday."

She nodded.  "It's a habit formed early.  Esme was at Hogwarts for years ahead of me, you know, and I just longed to go with her.  When I was finally old enough, I was so excited that I couldn't sleep a wink the night before the train.  Of course once I was on the Express, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep."

"Is that what happened?"  They had only shared a compartment on the Hogwarts Express twice before, and he had noticed on that last train of his school career, that she had slept.  In fact, she had fallen asleep on his shoulder.  Half an hour later, Sirius had come in and woken her by jumping on Remus.  None of the Marauders had forgotten the way Remus had attacked Sirius for disappointing Rain.  Unfortunately, they had also not forgotten that he said he loved her.  Remus sighed again, remembering how mercilessly they had teased him about it.  How on Earth could Sirius have forgotten about it now?  He felt a pang of sorrow and looked down at Rain.

She had indeed fallen asleep.  Her cheek rested against the seat, and her auburn curls brushed her face.  Her mouth was slightly open, curled into a tiny smile.  His heart thumped painfully.  She was happy.  He had to content himself with that.

She had spoken of Esme.  He wondered if that still hurt her, or if she had healed over the past fifteen years.  Esme McGonagall had been five years older than Rain--four years above Remus--Rain's beautiful, smart, adored elder sister.  Prefect and Head Girl in her day, she had truly been a rising star.  She had been killed by Death Eaters during summer term of Rain's seventh year at Hogwarts.  Remus had been with Rain the night she got the news; he had returned to Hogwarts as her escort for the Leaver's Ball.

_Rain was stunning in dress robes of a shimmery green, her eyes dancing merrily as she looked at him, blissfully unaware that they were about to be horribly interrupted.  Remus had, after merciless plaguing from Sirius, finally resolved that he would ask to see her as more than a friend.  He had taken her out on a small garden terrace, far from the quivering rosebushes full of snogging couples.  The starry dusk was falling around them, and Remus had worked up the courage to take her hand._

_Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall had appeared suddenly, the former very grave, the latter pale.  Dumbledore stepped forward.  "Ah--Rain and Remus,' he said, his voice heavy and lacking the usual hint of amusement.  "We have been searching for you.  Miss McGonagall's friend Miss Silverthorne was kind enough to smother her giggles long enough to point us here."_

_Remus' heart had sped with fear as soon as the headmaster spoke, and his fingers tightened around Rain's.  They weren't just here to chastise Remus for sneaking into school for the dance.  Even Dumbledore's attempt at gentleness was flat._

_"What's wrong, Headmaster?" he asked quickly.  "James and Sirius--"_

_"Are in no immediate danger, it is to be hoped," Dumbledore interrupted.  "They are, however, working."  He paused, and Professor McGonagall choked.  Remus realized she was crying.  Dumbledore put a hand on her shoulder.  "Remus, perhaps you would--"_

_"No!"  Rain spoke for the first time, and her voice, though frightened, was firm.  "Headmaster, whatever you have to say, Remus can hear."_

_Dumbledore nodded, his expression clearing.  "Very well.  I hate to tell you this, especially on such a lovely night as tonight.  Rain--"  His voice was extremely gentle.  "Rain, your sister Esme has been killed."_

_A small moan escaped Rain's lips, she went very white.  Swaying slightly on her feet, she gripped Remus' hand with an intensity that made his bones creak.  After a very long time she said, "What?"  Remus put his arm around her shoulders._

_"She died attempting to defend two of her fellow Aurors.  One of them, Frank Longbottom, escaped and brought us the news.  The other..."  He looked down.  "Your clan has requested that we release you early with your papers."  He glanced at Minerva, who was white-lipped and shaking.  "I have agreed."_

_Rain was shaking her head.  "I--I can't...I..."_

_Remus supported her when she swayed, trying to imagine what Dumbledore meant.  Then Professor McGonagall went to her knees and pressed her lips against Rain's hand, and he twigged:  Rain--no, Katraina, he corrected himself, not Rain ever again--Katraina McGonagall, daughter of the late Lord Fergus and Lady Mary McGonagall…and with the death of her sister, The McGonagall of Clan McGonagall, Lady of Heatherhall._

_He wondered if he should release his hold on her, then quickly realized that if he did so she would fall.  He tightened his arm around her.  "Oh, Rainy Day," he whispered, without meaning to, and the look she gave him, so hotly grateful despite her grief, made his hopeless--doubly hopeless, for a lady and a werewolf--love flare for her anew._

_They went up to Dumbledore's office then, as the headmaster prepared her papers and sent messages to the Ministry and Rain's aunts and uncles.  Rain clung to Remus' hand and stared at the floor, and Remus thought anxiously of James and Sirius, who also worked for the Ministry and were probably even now trying to find Esme's killers.  He tried to swallow his bitterness about the Ministry's no-hire policy concerning werewolves.  The work Dumbledore had given him was important; someone had to keep the members of the resistance in communion, and someone certainly needed to keep a subtle eye on Severus Snape._

_When Dumbledore looked up from his papers, Rain flinched.  The great wizard's eyes were kind as he looked first at Remus, then at Rain.  "I am afraid there are great hardships in store for you both," he said in a quiet voice.  "Voldemort is gaining strength.  Our fight against him is only beginning.  And now you, Rain, have immense responsibilities and duties thrust upon you at a young age.  I am pleased to see you drawing strength from one another in such a difficult time.  Love is our strongest weapon against Voldemort.  Never forget that.  Rain, I should like it very much if you would correspond with me.  And Remus, you and I will speak in a few days.  For now, I believe, the train is waiting."_

_Remus took that to mean he was to escort Rain to her family at Heatherhall; and indeed he thought it best that the new Lady have a protector.  Her trunk had been packed by a house elf, and a horseless carriage bore them to Hogsmeade Station.  Rain sat so still and pale that Remus found himself watching her chest rise and fall, to be certain she was still breathing.  Finally, on the train, after an hour and a half of chilling silence, Rain's eyes closed and she slept for a short time.  When she awoke her eyes seemed haunted, and he wondered what she had dreamed._

_He stayed with her for the funeral, where Lily and James Potter and Sirius joined them.  They offered to find him a broom so he could fly back with them, but Rain had looked at him with such a frightened expression that he said he meant to stay on awhile yet, if the lady didn't mind.  The lady stepped over to him and kissed his cheek, prompting Sirius to offer to stay if she'd give him a like reward.  Rain had given him a sad smile that broke Remus' heart._

_But the day eventually came when Remus had to leave or announce his official intent to court the lady.  He knew he couldn't do that--could never do that, now--and still living tore his heart.  It was difficult to convince Rain he must leave, but in the end she had accepted with as much grace as she could muster._

_Before he left , he ordered from Platt and Orr a delicate platinum bracelet, on which he placed the strongest protection spells he knew, as well as a sort of locating spell._

_"If you ever need me," he said, not meeting Rain's eyes as he fastened it around her wrist, "just send this to me with an owl.  I swear, no matter what, I'll come to you."_

_She admired the bracelet a moment, then turned the admiration on him.  "Thank you, from the deepest place in my heart.  I can't say--"  She broke off and hugged him fiercely.  "At least I'll host Christmas here.  But come and visit before then."_

_"I will," he agreed.  "We all will."_

_"I meant just you," she said, the faintest glimmerings of a smile on her face._

_"Oh."  Remus took a deep breath, and before his courage failed him utterly, he kissed her--just a quick, simple kiss that still left him breathless.  When he stepped back she was staring at him in a starry-eyed sort of way, and even as he Apparated he had begun to wonder how soon he would be able to come back._

"Remus!  Remus!"

He shook himself and discovered he was still watching Rain sleep.  Only, she wasn't sleeping anymore.  Her green eyes were quizzical, her mouth quirked up in a tiny smile.

"I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes!  Were you dreaming with your eyes open or something?"

He smiled wryly.  "You might say that.  Ah, remembering, actually."

She tilted her head to one side.  "And must I torture you until you tell me what?"

He took a deep breath.  "Oh--us, actually.  Remembering how we were, before."

It was gratifying to see the blush creeping into her porcelain cheeks.  What did that mean? he wondered, intrigued.

She turned her face away.  "You must miss them so much."

"No more than you do," he protested, thinking of Sirius.

"No, I don't miss them the way you would.  They were all your friends, much more than they were mine.  I was just little tagalong Rain, after all," she said, with a laugh that sounded self-conscious.  "I do miss Lily a great deal, of course.  But really I suppose she meant more to me than I did to her."

"She thought very highly of you, Rain," he protested.

"Yes, but she had James...and then Harry."

Remus drew in a breath to ask whether Rain had missed Sirius, but suddenly the bus jerked and began to slow.

"All off for Hunter's Combe," the bus driver called.

Rain sighed and stood up, stretching.  Remus held his breath at the way it pulled her shirt, and quickly turned to grab his briefcase.  Following her out, he noticed the bus driver's appreciative gaze on her, and felt a brief surge of pride that he was being seen with her.  As he stepped off the bus, his foot caught on something and he lost his balance.  _You're such a prat!_ he thought as he began to fall.

Rain squeaked and he felt her grab his wrist tightly, managing to keep him on his feet.  He looked down automatically and stared at the McGonagall crest on her forefinger, and the bracelet on her wrist.  "Rain," he asked as he regained his balance and they walked away from the bus, "is that silver?"

She looked down and, apparently realizing she still held his wrist, let him go.  "Of course not," she said briskly, and he reflected that she rarely sounded so much like her cousin.  "I haven't worn silver for twenty years.  It's platinum, and I should think you would recognize it, Mr. Moony, as you were the one who gave it to me."

She stalked away, leaving Remus to stare after her.


	3. The Storm

**Chapter Three - The Storm**

_"Friendship is constant in all other things/Save in the office and affairs of love."_

_-- Much __Ado__ About Nothing**__**_

Sirius was waiting for them under a huge oak tree.  He had tied his longish hair back into a tail and was affecting a careless slouch.  His cloak was thrown over one shoulder, revealing his wand, clutched in a white-knuckled hand.  Looking at him in the early evening light, Rain was startled by how badly Azkaban had aged him.  The laughing light in his eyes had been nearly extinguished; she had seen that when he had come to Heatherhall with her summons.  Now she saw threads of white in his thick black hair, deep lines by his eyes and mouth, his hollow cheeks.  Yet looking at him, she still felt the tiny thrill she had always felt when, as a schoolgirl, she had seen him across the Great Hall or speeding past on the Quidditch pitch.  He was still a very handsome man.

He had seen them before she spotted him; she could tell by the tension in his shoulders.  He was frowning, but without great energy.  He smiled as he met her gaze.

"Rainstorm!  Moony--I'm glad you made it!"  He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek and slapped Remus' shoulder.  "Any trouble getting here?"  His voice was hoarse, but the joy in it was obvious.  Sirius had never been one for hiding his emotions.

"None," Remus said quietly.  His eyes were fixed on Sirius'.  "What's going on?"

Sirius gave an explosive sigh and turned away.  Rain was confused until she saw a stone bench a few feet further into the trees.  Sirius plopped on it.  "Buggered if I know," he said, rubbing a hand across his forehead.  "I don't think Harry's lying to me--but something is decidedly weird with him."

"Weird, how?" Remus asked, indicating that Rain should take the remaining space; he sat on the ground at her feet.  It was odd, she thought, how he managed to make nearly everything he did look dignified.

"Well, for one thing, he and that Malfoy brat were quite civil to one another, and you know as well as I do that they're far more likely to hex each other."

"Mm."

"For another, I don't think he said more than two dozen words to me in the entire half-hour we were together."

"Hmm."  Rain bit her lip; this was Calm and Thoughtful Remus, whose very unflappableness had always driven Sirius mad.  The other Marauders had usually only found it mildly irritating; but to Rain it had been a source of great comfort.  "If Moony ever gets scared," she had told Peter on more than one occasion, "then we are allowed to be scared, too."

Sirius' loud voice broke into her memory.  "Remus, are you listening?"

"Of course I am.  I'm just thinking."

Sirius hmphed.  Rain looked at him again.  He looked better in some ways than he had last month, but he was still far too gaunt.  He needed someone to fatten him up...

"What?" he snapped, and she grimaced; twelve years in Azkaban would ruin anyone's temper, and his hadn't exactly been good to begin with.

"Did you see that, Moony?" Sirius howled, completely distracted now.  "Rain made a face at me!  She knows I'm a pathetic excuse for a Marauder, let alone a man!  Lord, if even Rain abandons me, life _is_ miserable!"

Such an outburst twenty years ago might have made her blush and stammer.  Now she just shook her head.  "'Even Rain,'" she quoted dryly.  "You do know how to make a girl feel good, don't you?"

Remus laughed as Sirius sputtered.  "She's got you, Padfoot.  My congratulations, Rainy Day; I have rarely seen Sirius reduced so quickly to speechlessness."

She smiled at him.  "Now if only I could achieve silence," she said, and Sirius clapped one hand to his heart and fell over.  She laughed.  At least she had made him laugh.  Well, she thought he was laughing.

"This must be a party to which few are invited," said an amused voice.  Rain spun to face a pleasant-looking man about their age.  No one had heard his approach; they'd been too busy laughing like careless children.  She felt Remus put his hand on her shoulder.

"Will!" said Sirius, sitting up.  "Meet my two dearest friends, Remus Lupin and Rain McGonagall.  Kids, this is Will Stanton, the Lady's nephew-in-law."

"Really?"  Looking intrigued, Remus stepped forward and extended his hand.  "It's a pleasure.  We used to know Jules."

Stanton nodded.  "She was quite pleased to see Mr. Black again."

"I'll bet," Remus said, flicking a glance at his best friend.

Sirius seemed to interpret it correctly, even if Rain couldn't, for he stood up hastily.  "Well, it seems my work in this little bit of England is done, Will.  Thanks for letting me use the house while I was looking for Harry--"

"Mischief managed," Remus murmured dryly.

"--and I'll be heading back to Hogwarts briefly.  Fancy a trip by broom, Rainstorm?"  
  
  


Caught off guard, Rain stared at him a moment before shaking her head.  The very thought alarmed her; what would Remus think of that?  She glanced over at him and imagined that the barest flicker of disappointment crossed his face before he said, "Go on, Rain.  I don't mind."

He didn't mind?  "No," she said, rather too firmly.  "No,  I'm afraid I left far too much back at the Leaky Cauldron.  Besides, we're meant to be meeting with Arthur Weasley.  Thank you, though, Sirius."

He shrugged, apparently unaffected.  "Ah well.  Remus, I was to give you this."  He held out a small, flat box.  "Dumbledore reckoned you'd need it before start of school.  Oh, and there's a message, too.  Buggered if I--hmm."  He patted at the pockets of his robe.  "Have I lost it?  Ah!"  He pulled out a rolled parchment and extended it to Remus.  "Dumbledore says you'll know if this is needed."

Remus stared at him.  "It's a bloody good thing you didn't lose this.  Do you know what it is?"

Sirius looked at him solemnly for a moment, then grinned.  "And I always thought Peter was the gullible one."

Remus rolled his eyes and cuffed Sirius on the shoulder, but he was smiling.  "Be careful, Padfoot," he admonished him, and for a rare moment the old warmth between them flared.  Then Sirius shrugged and turned to Will, who had been standing with his hands in his pockets, watching.

"Well, old chap, looks as though it's just us.  I'll come up to the house and take my leave of Lady Greythorne, if I may."

Stanton nodded.  "Lovely to have met you," he said, smiling at Rain and Remus.  Then he and Sirius turned and disappeared down a small shadowed footpath.

"Good lord," said Remus a minute later.  "He's exhausting.  And he had me come out to meet him for a little box?"  But he sounded more amused than exasperated.  Rain noticed that he had already tucked the rolled parchment into his pocket, but was staring down at the box, turning it over and over in his hands.

"I suppose we might as well try to catch a bus back to town," she said, pushing down her curiosity.

Remus nodded and put the box in his pocket.  He stuck an elbow out at her.  Giggling, Rain put her hand through it and they headed back through the gate and into town.

She studied him as they walked.  He was still as handsome as ever, but he seemed even more tired than he had been as a boy.  The lines on his face made him seem wise--and he had always had always seemed wiser than other people their age--and the lines by his eyes spoke of a man who knew how to laugh.  They were made harsher by the light of the moon that was rising ahead of them.  She had always liked the strands of grey in his hair, too.  Altogether his looks had made him more intriguing than his peers; even in school he had held a mystery that had intrigued her, begging her to solve it, or at least share in it.

Moonlight.  She glanced up.

"Only three-quarters," Remus said quietly, not looking up.

She drew in a quick breath.  Had he seen her watching him?  Her heart sped up.

"We've been through a bit of hardship, haven't we, Rain?" he said, a strange undercurrent in his thoughtful voice.

"I suppose we have," she agreed; her own voice sounded strange to her.

"Do you remember what Dumbledore said, about drawing strength from one another in difficult times?"  The undercurrent was gaining in strength.

"Oh, yes," she breathed.  And what came after.  Love was their strongest weapon...

Remus stopped walking and faced her.  "I must be mad," he whispered.

And he kissed her.

Rain held her breath, feeling her skin tingle.  He put his hands on either side of her face, cradling her as gently as a flower.  Her eyes fluttered closed and she kissed him back, trying to convey how much she had missed him.  Then, to her horror, she felt tears trickling down her cheeks.  They must have touched his hands, for he pulled back and looked at her questioningly.  And before she could frame a sentence, an explanation, a simple 'I love you'--down came the guards on his heart.  His eyes withdrew and he turned away.  "I'm sorry."

He was walking away from her.  He was actually going to walk away again.  "Sorry for what?" she asked, and he stopped as he heard the anger in her voice.  He didn't answer.  She took a step closer.

"Why are you sorry, Remus?"

His shoulders slumped and he looked at the ground.

"You're sorry for kissing me?  You're sorry for abandoning me fourteen years ago?  What is it exactly that you're sorry for?  Are you just sorry about our whole stupid relationship?  Wish you'd never been friends with any of us?"

That got his attention, as she had known it would.  His head snapped up, but still he didn't turn.

"I remember how merciless James and Sirius could be.  Only little Peter ever stuck up for you when they started in trying to tease the truth out of you about your monthly disappearances and whether it was true that you had a hopeless crush on Lily.  He always changed the subject, directed their attention to persecuting Severus, something.  Peter admired you, looked up to you.  Oh, is that it?  You're sorry you didn't recognize him as a traitor?"

That was a hit below the belt and she knew it.  The words had come pouring out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying.  Sirius had had good reason for nicknaming her Rainstorm.  She took a deep breath and waited, lips parted, for Remus' retort.

He spun to face her.  "We were all Peter's friends," he said, his voice remarkably mild.  Only the heaving of his chest gave his anger away.  "You were always remarkably patient, even kind, with him.  He liked you, Rain."

"And I liked him," she said frankly, wondering what she had started.  Oh she hadn't, she hadn't, meant to bring up the Betrayal!  "Remus, I'm sorry--It doesn't change what he did, but neither does it make us complicit in his betrayal."  She wished desperately that she could erase all her words.

"I never wanted Lily," he said, his tone losing some of its mildness.  She was grateful that he went back to that topic.  "You were the only bloody idiot who never saw that, Rain.  Even Peter knew better."  Okay, maybe they should talk about Peter instead of her.

"I never noticed," she confessed.

"Why the bloody hell should you?" he asked bitterly.  "You were too damn wrapped up in Sirius to even care!"

"We're all a bit stupid when we're young, aren't we?" she retorted.  "Are you going to hold it against me for the rest of my life?"

"I'm thinking about it!" he howled.  Rain drew back, shocked.  "Why?" she shot back.  "Why does Sirius get a second chance, but not me?"

He turned away again.  "Don't you even see how he looks at you?"

Rain blinked.  There were too many twists in this argument for her to follow.  "What?"

"Sirius.  He asks about you in his letters, kisses you, invites you to fly with him to Hogwarts."  Oh, that was definitely jealousy in his voice.  Very sullen jealousy.  Realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

"What?" she asked, almost laughing.

"It isn't funny," Remus said tightly.  "He _looks at you."_

"Remus, who cares?"  He glanced back at her as if unconvinced.  "I hadn't noticed," she continued.  "Sirius is just--well, just Sirius."

"I'm sure you'll be very happy together."

"I'm not in love with Sirius!" she shouted at him, losing her temper again.

"Then what is it?" Remus' voice was impatient.

"You, Remus!  You!"  She felt tears--of anger, this time--spill over.  "I have lived on the hope that someday you would come back to me.  And then the days became weeks, the weeks became months, and even now, after fourteen years, when I am _this_--how dare you come to me now?  But no, even now, I still had to go to you!" she snapped.  Her anger was pulsing at her like a tide.  She pushed past him and began marching towards town.

Behind her there was only silence.  She cursed herself with every step, wishing she had never brought it up, wishing she had agreed to fly back to Hogwarts with Sirius, wishing she had never come back to Hogwarts in the first place.  Better to die an old maid, never knowing, than to face this rejection.  She kept walking, willing her feet not to slow.  After what felt like an eternity of twenty-two paces, she heard pounding feet behind her.

"Rain!  Rain."  His hand entered her vision, hesitated before it touched her.  She took another step.  "Rain!"  He grasped her wrist lightly, just enough to get her attention, without forcing her to stop.

She stopped.  The hand moved from her wrist to touch her face.  After a moment she looked up.  His eyes were on her, very wide.  The moonlight traced a single glistening line down one cheek.  He looked like a lost little boy who had just spotted the warm lights of home, but was not yet free of the fear of being alone in the dark.

And then she did what she had wanted to--what she should have done--when she first saw him in her office.  She put her arms around him and pulled him close.  As she closed her eyes, feeling tears on her face again, Remus buried his face in her hair and held her tightly.

"I wanted so badly to come back to you," Remus whispered, when he felt his courage had returned from the cold dark place she had shoved it with her anger.  "But with all the rest of them gone...and you were the Lady of Heatherhall.  How could a common werewolf even hope to win you?"

There was silence for a moment.  "You are anything but common," she murmured, and laughed.  Then she sighed.  "I was really hurt when you didn't come back," she said in a low voice, sending a pang of guilt through him.  "I wondered if I'd made you angry somehow, if I'd just read too much into your friendly attention, if you were just trying to help me get over losing Esme."  She paused.  "I even--"  Her voice broke and she coughed.

"Go on," he whispered, wondering if he really wanted her to.  Every word was crucifying his conscience.

"I even wondered if you thought, because I'd always liked Sirius, that I helped--"

"No!" he cried, feeling a wash of horror.  "Oh, forgive me, Rain!  I never thought that.  If I had known you felt that way--"

"What, Remus?  You wouldn't have come back, would you?"  But her words lacked the bite of her earlier anger.  Now she just sounded weary, and so sad.

He sighed.  "I would have written to you," he said feebly, but they both knew it wasn't enough.  "I--I don't know if I can explain it, Rain.  After Lily and James--and I had just lost nearly everything that mattered to me, all in one horrible night.  A night when I was out of control and could be no help to anyone.  Thinking that I'd been so horribly wrong about Sirius...and I'd imagined your heart would be broken by his betrayal.  I--"  He withdrew one arm from around her and scrubbed his hand through his hair.  "I just wanted to stick my head in the gas oven.  I hadn't suspected Sirius, I hadn't been able to save them--I was a damned werewolf, for heaven's sake!  I believed God must hate me, that I truly was cursed.  I couldn't protect the people I loved, I couldn't even hold down a job!  How do you offer that to a fine lady?"

She didn't answer right away.  Instead she tightened her arms around him and turned her face up to his.  When he was breathless from her kiss, she drew away and said, "You don't offer that, Remus.  You offer yourself."

~*~ 

When they got back to the Leaky Cauldron, Rain asked Tom to send tea up to her room, but when she would have drawn Remus in, he declined.  "Now that we--well," he said, blushing.  "After we...er, after all that, I won't do anything to--to tarnish your reputation.  Lady McGonagall."

She gave him an appraising look, and he grinned.

"Oh, quit being so charming," she said, pretending to be cross.  She kissed his cheek.  "Good night, then, Professor Lupin," she whispered.

His resolve wavered ever so slightly.  "Good night, Professor Rain," he replied.

He awoke late in the night and lay there wondering what had disturbed his sleep.  After a moment the room lit up and he heard a crash and rumble as though the roof was about to fall in.  At the thunder, he relaxed; wild nights were his glory.  The wind splattered raindrops against the window.  He let his eyes drift half shut and took slow, even breaths, filling all his senses with the storm.

Once disturbed, though, sleep was a long way off.  Finally he got out of bed and walked to the glass door that opened onto the deep balcony his room shared with Rain's.  Looking out, he saw her standing on the balcony, watching as the storm lit up the sky over Diagon Alley.

She had said she loved him.  He sighed with contentment and leaned against the wall, watching her laugh as the spray hit her face.  He couldn't even work up any guilt over stealing Sirius' girl.  Rain loved him.

Half an hour later, as the storm waned, she yawned and pulled her dressing gown closer around her.  When she turned and went back into her room, Remus took himself sleepily back to his own bed.  He drifted back into pleasant dreams, with the soft growl of thunder echoing in his ears.

~*~

Elsewhere in the storm, Severus Snape knelt in the mud while driving rain plastered his cloak and hair to his body.  He gazed at the man before him in equal parts loathing and scorn.

"You'll make a mistake sooner or later, Lucius," he hissed, managing to make himself heard through the thunder.  "And when you do, I'll witness it, ready to step into your shoes."

Lucius smiled grimly.  "Don't worry, Severus.  I am already preparing your way."

Very likely true, Snape thought sourly.  And probably that way lay madness, unless he got lucky and it was only the grave.  He shivered slightly and hid it with a shrug.  "You were remarkably careless with your son's life," he said.  "I expect a certain amount of ruthless cunning from you, Lucius, but it would be terribly inconvenient if you lost Draco somehow."

His adversary's eyes flashed ice at him--odd, how they were so much like Draco's, but so very shallow.  "Don't threaten me unless you can make good on it, Professor," Lucius bit out.

"Oh, it wasn't a threat," Snape replied idly.  "I don't bother with threatening people."  Besides students, that is.

Lucius held his gaze for a long moment, then turned away.  "This new professor," he said, as if he had only just thought of it--though Malfoys never spoke the first thing that came into their heads.  "I believe you knew her from before?"

"She was Lily's friend," Snape admitted, hating to tell even that sophist truth about Rain.

"Useless to us, then," Lucius said, waving his hand in dismissal.

"Not necessarily."  Severus swallowed, wondering if Dumbledore's faith in him was misplaced.  He was getting too old for this sort of subterfuge.

Malfoy had turned back to him.  "What are you suggesting, Severus?  I'm listening."  He was listening, Snape noticed, with his fingers flexing on his wand.  Almost as if he were waiting to curse him.

And so, knowing it may be the only way to save Katraina, and was likely the best way to hurt her badly, hating himself the while, Snape told him.  He unlocked the memories, the feelings, of a forbidden yesterday, and he spilled all of her secrets, those he knew and those he only surmised, onto Lord Voldemort's altar, laying it down before the fallen avenging angel of Lucius Malfoy.

Hating him the while.


	4. The Sorting Hat's Song

**Chapter Four - The Sorting Hat's Song**

_"Some of necessity go astray, because for them there is no such thing as a right path."_

_-- Thomas Mann_

Arthur Weasley arrived at the Leaky Cauldron while Rain and Remus were still at breakfast.  He saw them and came over, cup of coffee in hand.  He was smiling, but his pleasant face bore lines of worry and exhaustion.  Though the Ministry officially denied Voldemort's return, they had people working almost around the clock to deal with the increasing troubles.

"Mr. Lupin!  It's a pleasure to see you again, my good man.  I must say, I'll rest easier knowing you're back at Hogwarts.  I know people say You-Know-Who is afraid of Dumbledore, but he can't do everything, you know.  It's good to have a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who knows his stuff."

Rain found herself warming to him.  Remus smiled.  "Thank you, Mr. Weasley.  It means quite a lot to have your confidence.  May I introduce to you Rain McGonagall, our new History of Magic professor?"

Arthur reached over and shook her hand.  "Miss McGonagall, pleased to meet you.  Congratulations on finally ousting old Binns."  He grinned.  "And are you any relation to Minerva?"  
  


"Cousins," Rain said, smiling.  "And please, call me Rain."

"In that case, I must be Arthur to you both," he replied, eyes crinkling warmly.

"Arthur," Rain said, remember that his eldest son had gone missing with Harry and the Malfoy boy, "Have you had any word of Bill?"

He looked surprised.  "Oh, you know Bill, do you?  Well, yes, as a matter of fact--"  He leaned closer.  "We've been looking for an opportunity for him to conveniently vanish.  He's been sent into cover; someone's been watching him, and he wants to learn who it is.  Dumbledore assigned you both high security marks, of course, or I wouldn't be able to tell you any of this."

Remus was nodding.  "No one will hear of it from us," he said.  "Does Ron know?"

Arthur opened his mouth, then hesitated.  "I'm afraid he suspects," he said at last.  "I couldn't tell him anything officially, and we're having to be extremely careful of dinner table conversations these days, but--I believe George might have told him, yes.  Now."  He glanced at Remus.  "I understand that Dumbledore sent some papers for me."  He sat back in his chair and looked expectantly at them.

Rain was surprised when Remus nodded again and took a roll of parchment from his robes--the same parchment, she realized, that Sirius had given him in Hunter's Combe.  "Be very careful with this, Arthur," he cautioned.  "This is the roll of the Order of the Phoenix, and as Dumbledore may not have told you, it bears the same enchantment as the Hogwarts rollbook; whenever someone becomes a likely Phoenician, his or her name appears on the list.  Many lives are at stake if this is lost."

Arthur nodded, a serious expression on his face.  "Worth all the gold in Gringotts," he said, and tucked it inside his robes.  "Remus, may I ask--"

"You and Molly are on that list, as are--your children."  Rain wondered why Remus hesitated, and if Arthur had noticed.

He had.  "Percy?" he asked, his voice hungry.

Remus hesitated again, then shook his head slowly.  "Not at this time, Arthur.  I'm sorry."

Rain didn't recognize the name, but Arthur bowed his head, took off his glasses, and rubbed finger across his eyes.  "Yes, well," he said, not looking up at them.  "I should have expected it...After old Barty Crouch..."  He trailed off and stared at the bar.

Remus sighed softly.  "Percy's intelligent and good-hearted.  But if the Minister of Magic keeps denying Voldemort's return, many more intelligent, good-hearted people are going to be deceived.  Arthur, it's got to stop."

The other man nodded sadly.  "Thank--"  He broke off and cleared his throat.  "Thank you."  He looked at Rain.  "Percy is my son," he explained.  "He--does not believe You-Know-Who has returned."

Understanding and sympathy filled her heart.  "I'm so sorry," she said, putting her hand on his.  Remus smiled at her.

Arthur nodded.  "Well, then."  He sat up straighter and patted her hand.  "Remus, please tell the Headmaster that everything is on schedule and should be ready by Hallowe'en.  I'll be out to Hogwarts soon as an official Ministry guest to the Muggle Studies lessons.  I hope I'll see you both then."

He stood and nodded politely to them both, smiling.  As he left, however, his shoulders were slumped.

"Percy worked for Bartemius Crouch," Remus said after a moment.  "The Ministry official who vanished last year.  You'll remember he was on track for the Minister's seat, back--"

"I remember," Rain said quietly.

Remus stared at her for a moment, then flushed and looked away.  "I'm sorry," he said after a moment.

Barty Crouch's son had conspired with the LeStranges to restore Lord Voldemort.  The LeStranges had been the ones who killed Esme.  The grief had ended long ago, but the void left in her life by her elder sister's death had never fully healed.  So much would have been different.  Every decision Rain had made as Lady McGonagall was prefaced by the question, "What would Esme have done?"  Of course, there had been the two years when she hadn't cared what Esme or Lily or Minerva or anyone would have done--

She shook her head.  The past was the past.  Now she had a new start--a new start with Remus, and Hogwarts--and this time, no matter what, she wouldn't let that get away.

~*~

When September First finally arrived, Remus was both relieved and anxious.  He was looking forward to teaching again, and he was grateful that his mission as a professor would have such a clear-cut objective:  prepare those who were the future of the wizarding world to fight against Voldemort and all other creatures of the Darkness.

On the other hand, he was nervous about Rain's first day.  He was already certain Hermione would like her, and he suspected Neville Longbottom would appreciate Rain's compassionate nature.  He was more concerned about Harry and Ron's reception of her...and that of one other.  Remus had an idea that Rain would either be loved or hated by one particular young man, and he suspected she would be an unexplainable attraction to Draco Malfoy.

Of course that was just one of the many reasons Dumbledore had hired her--Remus suspected another was the headmaster's inordinate fondness for playing matchmaker--but it could well be the most important reason.  Twenty years ago Rain had reached out to Severus Snape.  Now she could do the same for Draco Malfoy.

Remus and Rain had missed the seemingly endless round of conferences and meetings that preceded the start of a new term at Hogwarts, largely because Dumbledore wanted them on the Express to keep an eye on things, and Remus had seen no reason to complain.  As they slid through the barrier onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, Remus had one hand on his wand.  It would make no sense for Voldemort to attack King's Cross; he couldn't possibly have built up enough strength for such an open move, not in a single summer.  All the same, there were more than a few Death Eaters with more enthusiasm than sense, and he refused to be caught by surprise.

They chose an empty compartment near the back of the train and settled back in silence.  Remus watched out the window while Rain kept an eye on the aisle.  She was trying to pretend she wasn't nervous, but he could see her nibbling her nails when she thought he wasn't looking.

Out the window Remus saw Hermione appear through the barrier, followed by her father, who was pushing her trolley, and her mother, who looked like a slightly older version of Hermione.  Her parents, looking awkward, kissed her goodbye and turned to go.  Before they reached the barrier, she must have said something, for they turned back quickly.  She threw her arms around her father, who held her tightly; Remus recognized in him a desperate desire to hold on to something precious that must be released.  Then the girl turned to her mother and took her hand, looking into her eyes for a moment.  Her mother bowed her head and dabbed at her eyes suddenly, and then laughed and nodded.  With a final wave, the two Muggles turned and left the platform.

Hermione turned and trudged towards the train, pushing her trolley without much energy.  On top of the trunk sat the orange bandy-legged cat Crookshanks, exuding triumph and a certain regality.  Remus grinned faintly; he owed that cat a great deal--he and Sirius both.  As Hermione neared the train, a tall youth with sandy hair approached her and helped her with her trunk.  A shiny badge flashed on his chest, matching the one Hermione wore.

"That fellow's Seamus Finnegan," he told Rain, just before the two disappeared from his sight.  "Oh, bother.  Well, never mind, you'll meet him.  He's the other Gryffindor prefect."

A few moments later, Hermione and Seamus appeared with her trunk.  She saw the teachers before Seamus did and stopped walking, causing Seamus to drop his end of the trunk on his toe.  He stifled a curse and blushed when she shot him a look.  "I'm sorry, Professors," she said, and started to withdraw.

"Wait, Hermione," Rain called.  "It's nice to see you again."

The girl came back, smiling.  "Thank you, Professor Rain," she said, "I hope you're well."

"Quite," Rain said, and Remus sighed inaudibly.  She had suddenly become the Lady again.  "And you?"

"Quite well, thank you.  Oh, Professor, this is Seamus Finnegan.  He's a prefect for Gryffindor."

Rain nodded at him and smiled, and he grinned at her affably.  "Pleased to meet you," he said in what Remus knew was a brogue thicker than usual.  "I had no idea we were getting in pretty exchange students this year."

Rain quirked an eyebrow at him and laughed.  "This one is a prefect?  Oh, seriously!"  She threw a glance at Remus, eyes dancing with the old pun.  He coughed.

"I quite agree, Rain; it's a serious offense."

She looked back at Seamus, who was laughing at himself now.  "I imagine I'll be seeing you in History of Magic," Rain told him.  "I'm the new professor."

He stared at her in frank astonishment, then laughed again.  "S'pose I look a bit of berk then," he said, and winked brazenly at her.  "If you fine people will all excuse me."  He tipped an imaginary hat and vanished through the open compartment door.

"Honestly!" Hermione exclaimed, sitting down next to Rain and shaking her head.  "I don't know when Seamus turned into such a flirt!"

"Have you looked in a mirror?" Rain asked, amused.

Hermione flushed and Remus realized that she was a pretty young woman.  She wore her hair in a single plait, and her eyes sparkled.  "Have you decided what we'll be covering in History of Magic, Professor?"

Rain laughed at the change in topic.  "Sort of.  I thought we'd start out with _Hogwarts: A History, which should give me time to sound out the strengths and interests of each student.  I'd like to tailor the class to meet each student's needs.  You, for example, might enjoy a study of famous Muggle-born witches, while Harry and Ron would be more interested in studying the history of Quidditch."_

Hermione laughed.  "Oh, Professor Rain, you're already better than Professor Binns!"

"Making up to the teachers already, Granger?  The little Mudblood has to get an early start."

The drawling voice and casual contempt didn't sound any different to usual, Remus thought, as Draco Malfoy stepped into the compartment.  The boy looked paler than usual, though, and there were faint shadows under his eyes.  What _had happened to Draco and Harry for those two days?_

Rain didn't move, but she caught Draco's eye all the same, and seemed to sit a bit more regally.  "That word is unacceptable, Mr. Malfoy," she said coolly.  "Be grateful I don't take house points for it.  The next time I will."

Draco seemed to recognize her--or something in her, perhaps.  He started back, eyes widening ever so slightly.  Then he regained his balance and put his hands casually in his trouser pockets.  "You of all people I didn't expect to favour Gryffindors and Mudbloods," he drawled, emphasizing the slur.  "I would've thought you would take after your father.  They say it runs in noble families like yours."

Twenty years ago, Rain would've fallen apart at that, Remus thought.  Now she just leveled her gaze at Malfoy, never moving, not even bothering with a reply.  After a moment, Draco backed down.

"We'll talk later, Mud--Granger," he muttered, and vanished.  It was only then that Remus realized he had been there without his usual flanking thugs.

Hermione was staring at Rain in awe.  "I've never seen anyone intimidate Malfoy," she breathed.  "Oh, Ron's going to love you!"

At that moment, Ron and Harry came bursting into the compartment.  "Wonder what had his knickers in a twist!" Ron was saying.  "He looked even nastier than usual!"

"With Malfoy, who knows," Harry said with a shrug.  Then they both saw the professors.  "Lupin!" Harry exclaimed, obviously surprised.  Then he grinned.  "Wow, does Sirius know you're here?  He didn't tell me!"

"Harry, shh!" Hermione hissed.  "We're supposed to call him Snuffles, remember?"  Remus choked back a snicker.

Suddenly Ron gave a low whistle.  "Wow, Hermione, you look...wow."

Remus saw Rain cover a smile with her hand as Hermione blushed again.  Harry, Remus noticed, seemed less surprised than Ron, and almost a bit amused.

"Well, if you'd met me in Diagon Alley like you were supposed to--" Hermione said loudly.  She was interrupted by an explosive sigh from Ron.

"Hermione, I _told you already, my dad's office had some sort of emergency and they needed him.  Mum was off visiting her sister and wouldn't let us go on our own.  Especially not after Fred and George got on her bad side."  Remus raised one eyebrow at Rain; were the boys lying to Hermione, or just waiting until there were no professors about?_

Ginny appeared in the door then, hanging back shyly.  "Is it alright if I join you, then?" she asked.  Fred and George leaned in over her shoulders.

"Come on, Ron, let us in!" they exclaimed, lifting her up and carrying her into the compartment.  She squealed and swatted them, but she was laughing.  Harry, Remus noticed, was studying her face rather carefully.

"Budge up, there's a good fellow," George said to Remus, who smiled and made room for the twins and Ginny.  George grinned good-naturedly back at him and offered him a sweet, which Ginny confiscated.

"Trust me, Professor, you don't want one of these," she said, giving her brother a dirty look.  He shrugged and waggled his eyebrows at her, and she snickered.

"Want to play a game of Exploding Snap?" Fred suggested, leaning over to tap Ron on the top of his head.

"Might as well," grunted Ron, pulling a deck of cards out of his pocket.  The train lurched and began to roll slowly northward, gradually picking up steam.

Remus was careful to make hourly patrols of the corridors, trying to be unobtrusive, but wanting to observe the other students.  On his last pass, he walked slowly up the length of the train.  They were less than an hour from Hogwarts, and the trip had been uneventful, though the train seemed far more lively than usual.  He wondered if it was a relief to return to school from the frightening world outside.  Though it wasn't widely known--or believed, at any rate--that Voldemort had returned, Dumbledore had announced it at the end of term feast last year.  Many of these students had had a summer of fear.

Returning to the compartment, he was about to go in when he heard something that made him pause.

"Percy actually asked Mum why they were letting us come back to Hogwarts.  He said he figured old Dumbledore had finally cracked."

Hermione gasped.  "What an awful thing--ooh, I always liked Percy!  What did you do, Ron?"

"Ginny let him have it, didn't you, Gin?" Ron said, a note of pride in his voice.  "Scorned him good for running Dumbledore down."

"Good on you, Ginny!" Harry exclaimed.

"I thought you were staying with them then, Harry."  Hermione's voice was thick with suspicion.  Remus raised his eyebrows.  Would they lie to her?  Sometimes he wished Harry wasn't so secretive.  Then again, that was a bit of the pot and the kettle, coming from him, wasn't it?

"Well, it was before I came down for breakfast, wasn't it?" Harry said.

"Yeah, you know how keen Percy is on his work," Fred piped up.  "Gets up before Dad, even."

"Ginny's the only one who can stand him anymore," George added.  "She gets up early to fix him his toast."

"Oh, I do not," Ginny protested, without much heat.  "I just like mornings.  It's the only time you lot are ever quiet."

Remus snickered.  Just then something touched his shoulder and he jumped.  Rain stood behind him, a finger to her lips.  Her eyes were shining with laughter.  She beckoned him down the aisle.  "Eavesdropping, Professor Lupin?" she asked, hands on her hips.

"I beg your pardon," he said with dignity.  "I don't see any eaves around here."

~*~

Minerva had been right, Rain realized, as she looked at the first years lined up for the Sorting.  It had been difficult to tell on the train, with students running up and down the corridors, but this year's incoming class was definitely small.  The Sorting Hat's new rhyme was a bit of an eye-opener, too.

When times are dark, as these times are,

Hogwarts has a greater need

For students who will stand their ground,

Of a hardier breed.

The strength to meet a challenge

And the heart to fight the foe,

To find a place against the dark

And serve a lofty goal.

For sheer courage, those brave and bold

Gryffindors are called.

And Hufflepuffs with hearts of gold

Steady us against a fall.

The cleverness of Ravenclaws

Ensures the dark will lose,

And as for those of Slytherin--

Each one of them must choose.

So put me on and do your part

To fight the enemy.

I'll see your thoughts and read your heart--

The Sorting's up to me!

From her place at the head table, Rain looked for Harry, Ron and Hermione...and then Draco.  He looked stunned.  He stared at the table before him as if not seeing it.  Rain had an idea that, though he might express scorn or hatred, he rarely expressed any other emotion.  'And as for Slytherin--Each one of them must choose.'  She looked quickly along her own table towards Severus.  Perhaps it had never occurred to Draco that he had a choice.

As Minerva began calling out names, Rain recognized more than a few of them.  'Abbott, Juniper' became a Ravenclaw, and 'Bones, Helen' went to Hufflepuff.  When 'Bulstrode, Maria' also became a Hufflepuff, a flurry of whispers ran the length of the Great Hall.  A cry of dismay came from the Slytherin table, and Maria threw off the hat--triumphantly, it seemed to Rain--and ran to the Hufflepuff table, which belatedly burst into applause.

Professor Sinistra leaned over.  "That one has an older sister in Slytherin.  Strange--I've only ever seen one other person escape from a family of Slytherins."  She looked pointedly at Rain and turned her attention back to the hat.

'Matherton, Eustace' produced a stir of a different sort when he was pronounced, in ringing tones, to be a Slytherin.  Rain heard a murmur of surprise around the head table, and looked over to catch a look of open horror on Professor Sprout's face.  Rain didn't recognize the name, but she imagined there were other Mathertons at the school, who were not Slytherins.

One Slytherin, a second year by her size, stood up to watch when Minerva said, "Pennington, Henrietta!"  Upon Pennington's identification as a Gryffindor, the Slytherin burst into tears.  "Sort me again!  Sort me again!" the second year called before her housemates silenced her.

At last, with the placement of 'Zabini, Lachlan' into Ravenclaw, the Sorting was over.  Judging by the reactions alone, Rain reckoned at least fifteen of the placements had been a surprise.  While Zabini took his seat, Dumbledore rose and tapped his knife gently against his goblet.  It was an unnecessary gesture; the Great Hall was preternaturally silent.

"Well, we have reached the start of another year," he said.  Rain could see the twinkle in his eyes and thought that if he was surprised, he was hiding it well.  "I am certain you have all had an exciting and eventful summer.  Rest assured, however, that we will not require an essay on your activities."  Rain thought he glanced at Harry.

"I am also certain that returning students have not forgotten the events of last June.  For the sake of our first years, I shall explain.  No," he said, smiling as someone's stomach rumbled loudly.  "There is no time.  Let me sum up.  Following the Third Task of the Triwizard Cup last year, Lord Voldemort has risen again."  A quiet whisper ran through the hall like the sigh of wind.  "As I pointed out last term, some of you may have family members who deny this--"  Rain followed his gaze to the Weasleys-- "but I assure you it is true, as the Sorting Hat itself reminded us.  Students, I implore you:  Take advantage of this time afforded you, to arm yourselves against the Dark Lord."

Everyone fell silent.  Dumbledore's words had been an earnest entreaty, and even the Slytherins seemed to take him seriously.  "Now then," he continued after a moment.  "I will quickly reacquaint you with Professor Lupin, and I will introduce to you Professor Rain McGonagall, our new History of Magic professor."

A small cheer went up from the Ravenclaw table, startling Rain.  She smiled warmly at them.

"Very well," said Dumbledore, smiling.  "Tuck in."

~*~

Severus caught up with Rain just before she reached her rooms.  "Lady McGonagall," he said quietly, and she turned, smiling.

"I thought I had settled this already," she chided.  "You called me Rain once, years ago, Severus.  Can you not bring yourself to do it again?"

He hesitated.  "As--you wish," he said stiffly, and she felt reproached.

"It wouldn't do for the students to know of my title," she said gently.

He blinked.  "Yes."

They were silent a moment.  "Will you come in, Severus?" she said, and to her surprise he gave a curt nod.  "Esmerelda," she said to her door, and they went in.

"I saw--an associate this week, Rain."  How stiff her name sounded, coming from his lips.  She nearly laughed, until she realized what he must mean.

"Oh.  You--"

"Be careful," he interrupted, his voice harsh.  "They know more about you than I had expected.  You are not safe."

She laughed, though she was troubled.  "Oh, poppycock!  I'm at Hogwarts!  How unsafe can I be with Dumbledore here?"

"There are Hogsmeade weekends," he said sourly.  "And holidays.  You should have someone with you."

Rain grinned.  "Are you asking me to walk out with you?"

His black eyes flashed at her.  She had forgotten how dangerous it was to tease Severus Snape.  "I am perhaps the last person you would want with you," he snapped.

"Oh, no, Severus.  It isn't--"

"Use that famed Ravenclaw intelligence, Katraina!  If I am often seen with you, They will ask me even more about you!  Being near me is not safe, for you or for me."

"Oh," she said, chastised.  "Yes, of course."

He turned to go and she touched his wrist carefully.  "Severus?  I'll need more of the potions, at the end of the week."

He nodded without turning.  "Be careful, Katraina."


	5. Solarus Tormente

**Chapter Five - Solarus Tormente**

_"We don't know each other's secrets quite so well as we flatter ourselves we do.  We don't always know our own secrets as well as we might."_

_-- Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr._

The next morning Rain spent an inordinate amount of time fussing in front of her mirror.    Her first day as a teacher.  Oh, this was a mistake.  She was a writer.  A biographer.  Of dead people--not children.  What did one do with children?  She took a deep breath and smoothed out her deep blue robes.  Her hands shook.   _Stop that,_ she told them sternly.  _There's nothing to be nervous about.  You like children.  Besides, after dealing with the clan, a lot of Hogwarts students will be easy._

With Dumbledore's sanction, Rain had decided to begin each class with fifteen minutes of recent history, specifically of the last fifty years, Voldemort's rise and fall and the second rising.  At least her day began with ickle firsties.

She snickered and bit her lips against the slightly hysterical laughter that threatened.  _I'm too young to do this--well, not too young, perhaps, but too irreverent, obviously.  This is ridiculous._

_Ah, but you were too young and irreverent to be Lady McGonagall, too.  Look how that turned out._

She gulped.  "Exactly.  An alcoholic clan leader who insisted on spinsterhood.  Lord knows how many of them shut up only because they were afraid I've gone mad!"

"Of course you're not, dear," her mirror said.

The next moment her door said in admiring tones, "This one's scary; your cousin, is she?" and opened to reveal Minerva.

"Charming butler you have," she remarked dryly.  "All right, to breakfast with you."

"Oh, but I--"

"Out!" she barked, and Rain, grabbing her satchel, jumped to obey.  Minerva marched behind her all the way to the great hall.  "I had a feeling you'd be green with nerves.  Move along, Rain.  You'll be fine.  The blue suits you, by the way.  Good choice.  He'll like it.  Now just remember, in this place, you aren't Lady McGonagall, you're a professor.  People here know much less of you than the clan does.  This is your true home.  You can relax here."

Rain was so touched by the depth of Minerva's knowledge of her fears that she almost missed the sly remark.  She widened her eyes, but her cousin guided her serenely to the head table and watched to be certain Rain ate some tea and toast.

~*~

The first years had been such a relief, Rain thought after her first lesson, even if they were Slytherins.  Her next group was fourth year Ravenclaws and Slytherins.  She wondered briefly if Dumbledore had decided  As the students filed in and took their seats, she leaned against the front of her desk.

"Good morning," she said.  "This year we will be covering the Goblin Rebellions and the history of Magical Being Races.  At the beginning of each class, however, we will begin with some recent history in Wizarding Britain.  Right then.  Can anyone tell me who Tom Marvolo Riddle was?"

As she had expected, no hands went up.  She waited a moment longer, smiling.  "All right, who can tell me who Rubeus Hagrid is?"  Every hand shot up.  As she nodded at a blonde Hufflepuff girl, Rain was thankful that she finally knew the complete story of the Chamber of Secrets.  Knowing who Voldemort was and from where he had come would hopefully bring them one step closer to his final defeat.

She began telling the story of the Chamber's first opening, leaving off before explaining who had done it or telling them that Tom Riddle had become Lord Voldemort.  That she would save for next time.

~*~

Remus was surprised, when he dismissed his Gryffindor fifth years, to hear someone calling Harry's name.  The boy hadn't even made it completely out the door when a red-haired girl grabbed his arm--Ginny Weasley.

"Harry, have you heard about Professor Rain?" she asked in a voice that sounded close to tears.

Harry hissed at her and jerked his head none-too-subtly in Remus' direction.  Well, he could take a hint.  Biting back a smile, he snapped his briefcase shut.  "Don't miss lunch," he said mildly, slipping between them on his way out of the room.  As he had anticipated, Harry pulled Ginny into the now-empty classroom.  Shamelessly, Remus crept back to listen, knowing Harry would have done the same.

"Harry, my friend Jessie told me she was talking about the Chamber of Secrets!  She was telling them about Tom!"  Yes, there were definitely tears in her voice.  Remus blinked.  Rain was talking about the Chamber of Secrets?  Surely she had cleared it with Dumbledore.

"Well, people should learn about Voldemort, Gin," Harry said awkwardly.

"But--but, Harry," she wailed, "she'll tell them about me!"

There was a quiet thumping sound.  "Come on, Gin, buck up.  She won't tell anyone.  You know what Dumbledore said.  Look, it wasn't your fault."  He sounded more awkward by the moment.  "Come on, then.  What else did your friend say about her?"  
  


Ginny sniffled loudly and sighed.  "Oh, that she's fantastic.  Loads better than old Binns.  She makes it really interesting, Jessie said.  Like you were there while it happened."

"I don't have her until Thursday," Harry said.  "When do you see her?"  
  


Ginny sniffled again.  "Tomorrow," she said dolefully.

"Look, go talk to her tonight," Harry said.  There was a silence, then he laughed.  "All right, do you want me to go talk to her?"

"Oh, Harry, would you?"  
  


"Sure," he said.  "I've got a free period after lunch; I'll go find her now and eat later."

"Oh, Harry, you're the best."

He laughed again.  "I'll tell you later what she says."

Remus hastened away from the door and made his way towards the Great Hall.  Harry caught him up before he reached it.

"Professor Lupin, do you know where I could find Professor Rain?"

"Lunch?" Remus suggested, but his gentle sarcasm was lost on Harry.

The boy's green eyes were thoughtful.  "Sir, Hermione says you were friends, back in school, you and Professor Rain, I mean."

"Yes."

"Sir, I've heard that she's teaching about Voldemort."  A couple of nearby students shushed them angrily, but Harry ignored them.

Remus considered his words carefully, trying to decide what would allay Ginny's fears.  "Headmaster Dumbledore has asked all the teachers here to align the students against the Dark Lord, and prepare them for the war."  Harry blinked and Remus wondered if he had been too frank.  But no, this was Harry, after all; one way or another, he would have discovered things.  "I am certain Rain will not give out information that would damage innocent people."

Harry opened his mouth, hesitated, and nodded.  "Thanks, Professor.  Erm, could I maybe bring some friends up for tea, sometime?"

Surprised and gratified, Remus smiled.  "Of course, Harry."

"Thanks!  See you later, Professor!"

Remus smiled and followed him into the Great Hall.  The unpleasant sight of Snape, hovering over Rain's chair, greeted him.  Jealousy welled up in him but he squashed it ruthlessly.  Rain and Severus had been friends before.  Why shouldn't she renew that friendship?  Lord knew, it would make relations in the Order a little easier, with her to smooth things between the Marauders and the Slytherin.  He sighed and went up to sit by Poppy Pomfrey, who greeted him cheerfully.

Several minutes later, Snape swept his robes around him and strode away.  He didn't look angry or sour as he usually did, though.  To Remus he seemed almost...sad.

~*~

The Dark Mark was burning with the heat of a thousand suns.  Severus imagined the skin of his arm blistering, splitting, oozing sticky pestilent fluids.  It took all his willpower not to clutch at it convulsively.  He scowled at a pair of second years, but their flustered retreat gave  him no satisfaction.  He almost wished the Mark truly burned the skin; at least then there were potions and unguents that would provide relief.

Five hours he would have to endure until he could walk into Hogsmeade and Apparate to the Dark Lord.  Five hours, and double potions with the fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins--of all classes, it had to be the one where Snape must be doubly vigilant before the twin perils of Potter and Malfoy.  And Katraina was still scoffing at his warnings.

Growling a curse under his breath, he turned a corner and went down a dank, narrow staircase towards the Potions Dungeon.  Part of him wished to God that Katraina had never returned to Hogwarts.  Most of him wished it.  She would get herself killed if she didn't demonstrate a bit more caution than she had so far.  And life was more endurable if she were absent, instead of present daily in body as well as spirit, adding so many hues and shades to a world he had seen in black and white.  She only complicated his life by being so friendly, by stirring the past--it was far too late to drag out the past now, he thought sourly.

But one small, selfish part of him couldn't help feeling that perhaps, if Heaven had seen fit to return Katraina to Hogwarts, to remind Severus of all that he had held and lost, perhaps he had in some small measure been forgiven for the evil he had done.

Traitor was what Severus had named that part of him.

Before his fourth year, when a smart and sassy third year Ravenclaw had been nervy enough to stand up under his barrage of sarcasm, Severus hadn't understood the concept of friendship.  There was no room for friendship in Slytherin House.  Loyalty, yes, alliance, yes, but friendship--that was a deathknell.  But then a silly Ravenclaw, skinny as a rail and knock-kneed, had put her hands on her hips and, in front of the entire Slytherin table, told him to sod off.

He'd hexed her, and his head of house happened to hear.  Detention for hexing a younger student--and the Transfiguration Teacher's cousin, for pity's sake!  And worse, the swotty little Ravenclaw seemed to think Severus was her bundle now.

_"Snape, Professor Morraine told me my Shrinking Solution needs work."_

_"What do I care?" he said rudely, pushing past her._

_"Because you're good at Potions," she replied.  One of the other Slytherin fourth years tittered.  Snape had seen them all through more than one Potions exam._

_"Go away, brat," he snarled._

_"I know how much you hate to see a potion all cocked up," she said, and he could hear the triumph in her voice.  But she was right.  He stopped walking._

_"Did you put the rat spleen in before or after the leech juice?" he snapped._

_"Before."_

_He sighed.  Damn Ravenclaws, anyway.  Always too smart for their own good.  "Well, how much leech juice did you use?"  
  
_

_"A jigger."_

_"Daft bird," he sneered.  "A dash more than suffices.  You're lucky you weren't poisoned."  And though he snarled and glared, he could feel her satisfied gaze on his back as he stalked away from her._

Stop.  STOP.  This was pointless.  Why think of the past?  There was too much darkness in it.

He had tried to warn her just now at lunch, but in the Great Hall, with Dumbledore in view, she hadn't taken his warning seriously.  _Damn Ravenclaws anyway.  Always thought they knew it all, without listening to those who knew better._

The Dark Mark burned on his arm, and Snape twisted his mouth into a bitter smile.  Five hours to go, and there were Gryffindors to torture.

~*~

When Ginny Weasley's form came in for their first History of Magic lesson, Rain kept a careful eye on the redheaded girl.  Though Ginny looked pale during the recounting of Tom Marvolo Riddle's tenure as Head Boy, she put her chin up at Rain's encouraging look; after class she stopped to thank Rain for speaking with Harry.

"He was rather concerned for you, Ginny," Rain said, smiling.  "It was very nice of him to speak on your behalf."

"I asked him to," Ginny confessed.  "I was--well, I was afraid to talk to you, in case you might--"  She broke off, looking at the floor.

"Blame you?" Rain finished, and the girl looked up again, surprised.  Rain smiled.  "No.  We all too often manage to get caught up in events that are too big for us, and we don't always see the ripples of those events spreading out around us.  When I was a student here, I had a friend--well, I had quite a crush on him, actually.  And after we left Hogwarts, he became an Auror to fight against Voldemort.  I had--other responsibilities that prevented my following him."  She paused, wondering how best to convey Sirius' plight without making it glaringly obvious whom she meant.  With a sigh, she leaned against her desk and considered her shoes.  "He--he was very good at what he did.  The Dark Lord wanted him nearly as much as he wanted Harry's parents.  Those of us who were associated with any of them were also in danger."

She looked up and met Ginny's eyes.  The Gryffindor girl seemed bewildered, but she was listening closely to what Rain said.  "So--several of our friends went into hiding.  My friend--the one I admired, you know--he was the only one who knew how to find some of them.  Understand, Ginny, that these were very frightening times.  The danger we faced then was all too present, and very real.  The very mention of Voldemort's name, even now, to people who are too young to remember him, is frightening.  The fear his hatred inspired--"  She broke off, eyes darkening.

"I can't even imagine it," Ginny said in a low voice.  "I only knew him when he was sixteen.  He was so evil then...how much worse he must have become..."

"Exactly," Rain said, ducking her head to catch the girl's eye.  "You do understand.  We had all sacrificed in some way to our cause, some more than others.  One night--the same night Lily and James Potter were murdered--I learnt that several of my friends had also been killed, that Voldemort's people had found them somehow, and of course, my dearest friend looked squarely to blame."

"He betrayed them all?" Ginny asked.

Rain closed her eyes briefly.  "It looked that way."  She looked at Ginny again.  "For many years I had no contact with this friend.  I didn't know how he was, and I only cared because he had hurt me so badly."

"You had loved him," Ginny offered.

Rain nodded.  "I had loved him.  And for many years, I thought that our other friends--friends who had been true, friends who had been kind and wise and understanding, but with whom I had lost contact--I thought they believed I had conspired with this man to betray them."

"Oh, but surely--" Ginny began, but Rain held up a hand.

"Surely it wasn't my fault?  But I was the one who wanted to know him best; shouldn't I have known he was a traitor?  Had I overlooked clues that I would have seen, had I not been so besotted with him?  Had I been remiss in my duties?"  
  


"Professor Rain--"  She held up her hand again.

"I lived like that, believing I was to blame, for a very long time, Ginny.  When I learnt that he had _not betrayed us, that someone else __had, I would have gone on blaming myself for the whole sorry mess, had not my dear friend come to me himself.  He gave me a lecture like the one I'm giving you now."  Rain gave Ginny a lopsided grin.  "We are only responsible for our own actions, Ginny.  I could not be responsible for what the true betrayer did.  Nor can you be responsible for what Tom did through you.  When you began losing control to him, when you began opening the Chamber for him, you ceased to act of your own volition, and became Voldemort's puppet.  The moment he gained control of your unwilling body, those actions became __his actions, not yours.  The moment he gained control, your culpability ceased."_

She put her hand on Ginny's slender shoulder.  "From what I understand, you fought him.  You tried to rid yourself of the diary, am I right?  And the very day of your final abduction, you attempted to warn Harry.  Those were actions motivated by love for your friends.  And that, Ginny, is the highest motive of all.  That is capable of saving a life, and saving the world."

Ginny's brown eyes were full of tears, but she took a deep breath and bit her lip, and the tears did not fall.  After a moment she gave Rain a smile that was at once painfully brilliant and beautifully brittle.  "Thank you, Professor," she said, and turned to go.

Rain let her.  She thought, she prayed, that she had got through to her.  As Ginny reached the door, she turned back.  "Professor Rain?  I'm glad he forgave you."

~*~

Saturday evening found Rain sitting in her window seat, looking out at the grounds.  She was meant to be marking homework from her seventh years, but the peaceful feeling that had overtaken her after dinner made work seem out of place.  The lingering summer weather gave the early evening a languid feel.  The sunset on the Forbidden Forest reminded her of a softer light that silvered the trees at night, over which she had kept vigil each month beginning her fifth year.

_She and Remus had had their first row at Christmas her fifth year.  All their other friends had plans for the holiday, and she had invited Remus home to Heatherhall so he wouldn't have to spend it alone.  His visit had not begun well._

_"You probably should've told me about your father," Remus said, his voice deceptively mild.  He'd been polite, even slightly deferential, to the Head of Clan McGonagall, but as soon as they were left alone in the library, he'd turned on Rain._

_"Told you?" she retorted.  "Why?  What does it matter?"  It did, of course.  Gryffindors and Slytherins as a rule didn't get along, though Esme was an exception.  Then again, Esme was an exception to every rule._

_"Because--well, because," he said.  She wondered if everyone would find out, if--horrors--he would tell Sirius._

_"My mother was a Gryffindor," she protested.  "Doesn't that count for anything?"_

_"You're still part Slytherin," he said stubbornly._

_"Going to drop me, then?  Afraid to be friends with someone who has Slytherin blood?"  Her voice was sharper than she had intended, and to her horror she felt tears well up in her eyes.  Lord, he couldn't drop her; he was the only person she'd ever met who really understood her.  You just couldn't lose a friend like that._

_She stared at him.  She felt as if he'd struck her, and the tears welling in her eyes spilled over.  Immediately he looked down, his cheeks darkening; he knew he'd hurt her._

_"You hid it from me for years," he said, sounding more defensive than angry now._

_Her heart was beating very quickly.  Suddenly her temper flared and she had half a second's warning that she was about to say something she would regret.  "Oh, I'm secretive?" she said.  "That's a bit of the pot and the kettle, isn't it, Moony?"_

_Her words had more of an effect than she'd expected.  He went very white and stared at her, speechless in his turn.  She ignored the tight pain in her chest and waited in smug silence.  She knew the tables had just turned._

_"You--you--"_

_"Yes, I know.  I've known for ages.  Not that you trusted me enough to tell me."_

_"But how--"_

_"Lily and I worked it out last term.  James let slip to her that Sirius is an animagus, and pretty soon we figured out James and Peter were, too.  Naturally we started wondering why they'd all have become animagi but you wouldn't.  Then we had that Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, and I realized you were gone every full moon."  He goggled at her, and she threw her hands up impatiently.  "Bloody hell, Remus, there's a reason the hat put me in Ravenclaw!"_

_"Well, but my secret was important," he protested, rallying somewhat._

_"So's mine!" she exclaimed.  "D'you any idea how disappointed my Dad was?"_

_"You don't turn into a bloody great monster every month!" he protested._

_She thought about that.  "Yes, I do, actually."  She fought to keep a straight face, but had a feeling her eyes would give her away._

_Their eyes met, and after a long moment, Remus chuckled, his cheeks pink.  "Oh.  Oh, well.  Hm.  I suppose you do, at that."_

_She kept her eyes on his.  "Remus, I'm sorry I kept it a secret.  But can you imagine how Sirius would react, if he knew?  Or Peter?"_

_Remus nodded slowly.  "Sirius would be...very angry.  And Peter would flinch every time you glanced his way."_

_She winced.  It was an echo of her thoughts, but it hurt to hear it said aloud.  "And it's odd for me," she said, trying in vain to steady her voice, "to look at the full moon, thinking it's pretty, knowing you're in torment."_

_His eyes clouded.  "Perhaps we'll keep our secrets," he suggested._

_She felt awful at the next thing, but she ought to tell him.  "Er," she said in a small voice, "Severus knows."  At his blank stare, she babbled on, "He _is_ a Slytherin, after all, and I think our families have been friends for a long time--well, our parents were at Hogwarts together, you know, and so he was bound to know, even if I hadn't told him."  Miserably she stopped speaking, wishing he would say something._

_He startled her by laughing.  "How bizarre.  I really _should _have figured it out sooner, I expect.  That settles it, then.  We must protect our secrets.  I can't imagine how people would react.  Lord, if Snape found out about me!  You must promise never to tell him."_

_She put her right hand over her heart.  "I swear," she said fervently, and he grinned at her._

_"And I swear not to point out to anyone that you come from a long line of Slytherins."_

_Her mother was a Gryffindor, but she saw no reason to point it out again.  "Happy Christmas, Moony."_

_"And the same to you, Rainy Day," he responded._

Arcanus flew into her room, interrupting her reflection on the past.  He looked disgruntled--well, more so than usual, at least.  A moment later he was followed by a large tawny owl, which swooped in, dropped a small package, and left.

"That wasn't anyone I recognize," she remarked to Arcanus as she took the package off her bed.  She looked it over curiously before opening it.  It was wrapped in brown paper, with gaps at the corners, and secured with Sellotape.  Odd--a Muggle product used on a wizarding package.  The direction, in a hand she didn't recognize, was written very ill:  Lady McGonagall, Ravenclaw, Hogwarts.  Only her solicitor would have directed a letter here to Lady McGonagall.

She sighed.  There wasn't really much to learn from the outside of the package.  At least it wasn't red, so it couldn't be an overgrown howler.  She put her fingernail under the tape and tugged.

Three minutes later she was cursing the sender, the inventor of Sellotape, and Muggles in general.  The damned stuff never gave up.  "Oh, sod it," she murmured, exasperated, and reached for her wand.  "_Alohamora!"_

It was a mistake.  The tape flew off the package, the paper sizzled and curled away, and suddenly the sun was inside her bedroom, blazing with unnatural intensity.  Rain shrieked and covered her face with her arms, holding her hands out to ward off the light.

In her shock she had dropped her wand.  She felt her hands burning and the skin cracking as she dropped to her knees.  She lowered one hand, feeling along the carpet for the wand.  When her fingers closed over it, she shouted "Nox!" at the top of her lungs.  Nothing.  Tears ran freely from her eyes.

"Finite incantatem!"  The sun shone on.

Sobbing, she tried to shelter her face.  Her panicked mind was scrambling for something, anything, to end this torture.  Something wet ran from her fingers down her wrist, then sizzled dry again.  Then, a cool, shadowy flicker of remembrance.  She gasped, "Tenebrae avernum!"

The light vanished.  Rain opened her eyes on white blankness.  She blinked but could tell the difference only because the searing pain changed from a dry sort of pain to a scrapy sort of pain.  She took a step forward and stumbled against her bed.  Reeling with her arms outstretched, she found the nearest post and gripped it, a sob catching in her throat.  Her other hand touched something that rattled--the remains of her package.  She grabbed it and pushed herself back upright.

"Arcanus?" she whispered.

He hooted softly and a moment later feathers kissed her cheek, setting off a minor explosion of pain, and the owl settled noiselessly on her shoulder.

"Arcanus, take me to Remus, please."  Her voice quivered as she spoke.  She tried to think of a charm to relieve her pain, but her mind was too filled with the white hot pulses of agony.

The owl hooted and flew away.  Rain pulled her cloak over her head as Arcanus hooted again.  She made it to the door without hitting more than two things; the door opened with a creak, murmuring, "Best see Madam Pomfrey about that, midear."

Arcanus went ahead of her, hooting every few seconds so she could follow him.  She was stumbling, and her toes caught on imagined variations in the floor, but she dug her fingernails into her palms and swallowed the groans that rose in her throat; she might not be a Gryffindor, but she could bloody well be brave.  At one point she thought she heard something near--someone breathing, or light footsteps passing--but they never spoke and she ignored them.

This was what came of ignoring the warnings, this was what she got for not listening to Severus.  She should have learned by now that Severus' insights were not to be taken lightly; he knew her too well, both her character and her situation, and his remarks were only motivated by his regard for her.  When he had approached her at lunch and said he hoped she was keeping up her guard, she had dismissed it as an idle concern.  He had been angry, of course, and now she knew he had been right to be angry.  What a hard lesson to learn!

Sunlight, of all things.  There couldn't be many wizards, even dark wizards, who knew Solarus Tormente.  Most people had forgotten the lamia even existed, except in myths.  Of those who remembered, few realized lamia and vampires were separate races.  The lamia were actually closer relatives of the veela than they were of vampires.  Still, sunlight could hurt them, even those who--like Rain--had only a trace of lamia heritage.

She bit back a sob.  She hadn't yet told Remus.  She had put it off again and again in the past weeks, and now it was too late to cushion the news.

After what seemed eons, Arcanus hooted very close to her ear and settled onto her shoulder again.  Rain reached out in front of her and her questing fingers touched wood.  She knocked, then leaned gratefully against the frame, shuddering to keep from falling apart.

Hinges squeaked faintly and then, blessedly, she heard Remus' voice.  "Arcanus?"  A pause.  "_Rain?"_

She sobbed once, then held her breath to keep from shaming herself.  His hands clasped her shoulders as Arcanus made a noise of indignation and left her.  He tried to draw her into his room, but she resisted.  "Remus, I need to get to Madam Pomfrey."

Thank God he didn't question her any further, but led her back into the hallway, keeping an arm around her shoulders.  She raised a hand--the less painful one--to secure her hood.

"I got a--a cursed letter," she said to the tense silence at her side.

He cursed violently.  Privately she agreed.  Had it only been last week when she had laughed and told Snape she would be safe?  "Do you have any clue who sent it?"  His voice was tight.

"They used Muggle tape.  But they sent it with an owl."  She bit her lip as she stumbled over a step, wincing as her teeth went through the tender skin.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice sounding odd.  "You need to lift your feet when you go up steps, dear.  Do you need me to carry you?"

He was trying to make her laugh, she thought.  Another sob welled up in her throat.  She obediently picked up her feet, swallowing a couple times before she spoke.  When she did, her voice quavered anyway.  "Well, I can't--exactly--see anything, Remus.  Everything's rather blank."

He stopped moving, presumably to peer at her; she made a frustrated noise.  "Please, please, get me to the hospital wing!"

"Of course."  His voice seemed muffled, but then he cleared his throat.  "Do you remember the time Lily hexed James with Occula Oscuris?  He'd been trying to sneak a look at her in the Prefect's Bathroom.  She was furious."

She forced a laugh.  "Do you remember the look on Peter's face, when James tripped over him in the common room that night?"

"Sirius never did let him forget that," Remus said.

"Thank you, Remus."  His arm about her tightened briefly.

"Almost there," he said.

They walked the last several steps in silence.  Rain bit her lip again, and tasted blood.  She shivered slightly, but her own blood didn't affect her, after all.  She felt a tear slide down her cheek, cooling it only slightly.

Madame Pomfrey made Remus wait outside while she examined Rain.  Going by her horrified exclamations, Rain was almost grateful she couldn't see herself.  Finally she felt Poppy's cool breath on her face as she examined Rain's eyes, gripping her head with firm but gentle hands and turning her this way and that.

"Blink for me, dear.  Mm.  Blink again.  Good.  Now turn your eyes over to the left...and to the right...Look up.  Hmm."

Rain tapped her fingers together in her lap.  Her heart was beating very fast, and she was feeling decidedly queasy.

Madam Pomfrey sighed.  "Well, my dear, I don't know what to say.  That was a powerful curse.  Not too many know Solarus Tormente these days.  You did recognize it, didn't you, dear?"

Rain nodded silently.  Now Poppy knew, too.  She hoped she wasn't offended that Snape was helping her--but then, the Sangrapura Potion was a very difficult one to brew.

"Right.  Well, there are treatments for sunburn which I shall try on the less severe burns.  Hopefully they'll at least alleviate your pain for a time.  I'll need something stronger for most of your face and hands, though."

"What about my eyes?" Rain said quickly.

"Well, dear..."  Madam Pomfrey paused, and Rain died at least a dozen deaths before she heard, "They are very badly hurt, I'm afraid.  I'd prefer not to say without consulting a second opinion, however.  Don't give up hope!  I'm just not certain about the best way to treat them."

As she spoke she was busily applying a cool salve to Rain's burns.  Slowly, some of the agony faded, and Rain began to calm.

"I have sent for Dumbledore," Madam Pomfrey said, "and I think until then we will devise a shade for your eyes..."  She tied what felt like cotton gauze around Rains forehead.  "Does that hurt too badly?  Does it make any change in what you can see?"

Rain shook her head.

Poppy sighed again.  "Shall I admit young Mr Lupin?  He's been looking quite anxious."

"Please," Rain said, though all she wanted was blissful unconsciousness.  She took a deep breath to steady herself, listening to his footsteps cross the infirmary to her side.

"Rain--"  He broke off and muttered an oath.  "What the bloody hell happened?  You said it was a cursed letter!"

"It was," she said, feeling miserable.

"Pull the other one," he said.  "No letter curse is powerful enough to do _that_."

She turned her face away from the sound of the voice.  "Solarus Tormente is."  Her voice sounded small, even to her.

"Sol--"  He broke off.  There followed a long, nasty silence.  A minute later he uttered a sharp laugh that was harsh with anger.  "Solarus Tormente.  That shouldn't work on humans, Rain.  Should have deduced this about you, should I?  Should have realized your acquaintances have a habit of dying on you?  That what happened to your mother?  Funny how I never noticed any puncture marks on your friends, _lamia."  His voice had lost the beautiful Remus mildness.  He sounded more like Severus than anyone._

"Yes, it came from my mother's line," she said quietly.  "It's not as though I asked for it."

More mirthless laughter.  How she wished she could see his face!  This conversation wasn't at all as she'd intended it to be.  "Right.  I expect you'll be telling me next that Minerva is a vampire, too."

"I'm not a vampire!" Rain exclaimed, horrified.

"Semantics," he said dismissively.

"No, it isn't," she retorted, angry.  "You should know that, Mr Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor!  Vampires are made.  Lamia are born.  Lamia may choose to be mortal."

There was a stubborn silence.  Except for the sound of his breath, quick and angry, she would have thought he had left.  She shifted impatiently and he gave a wordless growl.  "And this is another thing you saw fit to keep from your best friend, is it?" he asked bitterly.  "I should have realized from the first lie that I was better off without you.  Should have remembered how Ravenclaws love to employ sophism to get 'round the truth."

"Remus, I haven't been lying to you all our lives about this," she said, and despised the pleading she heard in her voice.  "I didn't know before.  I just--in the past weeks, there hasn't been a time--"

"You expect me to believe this isn't something you were hiding?  To believe that you didn't lie about this?"  She had only heard bitterness this strong in his voice after they heard about Lily and James--and Sirius.  She felt more tears slip down her cheeks and hated him for making her cry like this.

"You don't just say, 'Right, I forgot to mention, I'm part lamia, so be careful or I'll rip your veins out with my teeth!'" she snapped.

"Perhaps it would have been better that way!" he said tightly.  "Perhaps you might have found time while we were on the train, or staying in Diagon Alley."

"Perhaps I could have told you as soon as I found out!" she shot back.  "Oh, wait, I forgot:  you were nowhere around.  You'd already pulled a runner and deserted me!"

She heard his sharp intake of breath.  Then she heard his footsteps leave her side, and the door at the far end of the infirmary crashed against the wall.  She bent her head and let the tears flow freely, ignoring how they hurt her eyes.  _Damn_ her temper!  Rainstorm indeed.  Why did she always say exactly the words she knew would hurt?

Quick, light footsteps approached her.  "My goodness, is this a hospital or a war zone?"  Madam Pomfrey sounded more than a bit put out.

Rain shrugged.  "Remus got a bit upset."

Fortunately for her, the door opened again before she was forced to explain.  Dumbledore's soothing voice met her ears.  "I understand you've had a postal dispute, Rain."

She sighed, fighting the urge to giggle hysterically.  "Headmaster, I'm so glad you're here."

"May I remove the bandaging, Poppy?" he asked.

"Of course, Headmaster."

Rain felt a gentle tugging, then she heard Dumbledore take a long, slow breath.  "I see," he murmured, and Rain felt the insane desire to respond, Well, I don't.  "I will have to speak with Severus, but I believe we can have you ready to teach again soon."

"Severus?" she said involuntarily.

"He is--not here at the moment," Dumbledore said, his voice guarded.  "I believe he will be able to brew a potion to bathe your eyes.

"I hope he doesn't get as angry as Professor Lupin did," Madam Pomfrey remarked.

"I am quite certain that he shall," Dumbledore replied.  "However, he tends to guard himself very carefully.  I shall have a word with Remus, Poppy."  He sighed, and Rain realized with a start that he really was an old man.  "Rain," he said, and he sounded very sad, "have you considered who could have done this?"

She shook her head slowly.  "Only that it must be someone comfortable with the Muggle world.  The package was secured with Sellotape."

"May I see it?"  
  


Rain wondered where it was.  "I think I dropped it here somewhere," she said, and was rewarded by the sound of crinkling paper.

"Did you recognize the handwriting on the note?"

"Note?"

"The one that says, 'You should not have returned to Hogwarts, Creature of Darkness.'"  He sounded troubled.  "Rain, who knew of your...condition?"

"Well, Minerva, of course.  Severus, since he's brewing the potions.  You, sir.  Did Madam Pomfrey know?"

"Since Severus was treating you, I saw no reason to tell her.  What about your family?"

"What's left of it?" she said with unaccustomed bitterness.  Oh, how she missed Esme and her father at times like these.  "None of my father's other relatives have ever known, that I am aware of.  Father wasn't ashamed of her--you know how much he loved her, sir; it wasn't easy for either of them.  Gryffindor and Slytherin matches never are.  He just didn't want her to have to defend herself from more attacks.  No one would understand.  But she couldn't have been a Gryffindor if lamia blood made her evil, could she?"

"My dear, you know that I do not believe that our blood determines who or what we are."

She nodded.  "Even when mother--well, you might as well know the truth, sir.  My mother was staked.  The house defenses caught the woman who did it.  Mother hadn't been well, anyway, though.  Father had it put about that she died of a blood disease."

"I suppose it was an apt description," Dumbledore murmured.  She could hear a smile in his voice.

"Yes, sir.  I believe Father kept everything well hidden.  Esme found out about the lamia ancestry right away, of course; she was the clan heir.  But I didn't learn of any of this until after Esme's death.  It was--she had Mother's journal.  She'd read it, and made notes of her own in the pages.  I found them locked in her trunk; it's enchanted so that only the clan head can open it."  Rain lowered her head.  "I couldn't bring myself to read it for a long time."

"And Remus didn't know?"

She shook her head.

"Ah.  That explains Poppy's remark about his temper."

"He thought I'd hidden it from him deliberately."

"I see."

Just then Rain heard the door slam open again.  "Madam Pomfrey?  Oh!  Hello, Headmaster."

"Miss Granger.  Ronald seems to be in bad shape."

"Well, he would go practice in the dark, wouldn't he?"  Rain was amused by the bossy tone in Hermione's voice.  "I told him he wouldn't see the bludgers until they hit him, but he had to learn the hard way."

Rain couldn't help it; she sniggered.  She bit her lips together, remembering how adolescent boys hated to be laughed at, thinking again that she really was too irreverent to be a teacher.

Apparently Dumbledore was not blocking the view of Rain from the door.  Hermione gasped.  "Professor Rain, are you all right?"  
  


She opened her mouth, not sure how to answer, but Dumbledore said smoothly, "There was a minor accident with a potion.  We are awaiting Professor Snape."

"Oh, I didn't know you're good at Potions, too, Professor."

Rain found her voice.  "I'm not.  Hence the explosion."  Oh dear.  She sounded as dry as Minerva--well, Min had been more of an influence on her than her own mother.

Hermione giggled.  "I'm sorry, Professor," she said.  "I hope you feel better soon."

"Thank you, Hermione."

Madam Pomfrey came back then, and had a hurried conversation with Hermione, Ron, and Harry--who had been silent until then--and ejected the two uninjured parties.  She could be heard ordering Ron to drink a potion and lie still.  Soon after, Dumbledore took his leave of Rain, promising she would be informed when Severus returned.  Rain fidgeted in her bed, unable to get comfortable and unable to do anything to relieve her boredom.

She wondered where Severus was.  Dumbledore's reticence about his absence would seem to indicate that he was off being a spy.  She worried about him; she knew his work was vital to their cause, and knew he would bitterly resent her being worried, but she had an idea that Voldemort would reserve a special torment for those who betrayed him.  She sighed.

"Er, Professor?" said an awkward male voice.

"Ron?" she guessed.

"Yes, ma'am.  Erm, I wonder if--"  He paused.  _Keep talking_, she willed, _push off this blankness for a space_.

"Go on," she prompted, when the silence lengthened.

"Well, erm…I wondered if…do you like Quidditch?"

She grinned suddenly, ignoring the pain of it.  "Of course!  My team's the Cannons.  You've no idea how awful I look in their colours!"

"Not you, ma'am!" he exclaimed, his awkwardness forgotten.  "'Course, Hermione says redheads do look hideous in orange--not that it matters.  Did you see the last match against Puddlemere United?  What a massacre!"

"I thought the _Daily Prophet_ write-up didn't do it justice," she said.  "From my seats, Puddlemere looked like they had to work for their goals.  It was just because their seeker was showing off that it looked like such an easy victory."

"You were there?"  He sounded awed.  "That's brilliant!"

"I have season passes," she explained.  "One of the luxuries I allow myself."

"Wish I could afford them," he said.  "Only I'm saving up for a better broom."

"Yes, I thought Hermione had mentioned that you play.  What position?"

"Keeper.  I'm not very good yet, though.  My broom's too old, for one thing."

"I'm sure you play well," she said.  "How many seasons have you played?"

"This is my first.  Oliver Wood just left school, only there wasn't a Quidditch season here last year, because of the Triwizard Tournament."

"The Oliver Wood who was picked up by Manchester United?"

"Same one," Ron confirmed.  "I knew him.  He was a bit of a maniac, if you ask me.  Nearly got Harry killed a time or two.  He's a bloody brilliant keeper.  But Angelina's an easier captain, Fred and George say.  'Course, Fred's dating her, so I reckon he might be biased."

Rain laughed.  "I was hopeless at Quidditch myself," she offered.  "I can tell a Wronski Feint from a Hawkshead Attack Formation, but I couldn't do either one to save my life.  Probably kill myself just in the attempt."

Ron laughed.  "Hermione calls it a 'Wonky Feint,'" he said.  "But she likes Quidditch well enough.  She's a lot like you, though."

The door opened again and Rain held her breath, hoping it was Severus.  Instead, Ron spoke rudely.

"What are you doing here?"

"Temper, temper, Weasley," said a drawling voice.  "I might ask you the same thing.  Can your parents really afford to have you in hospital with Quidditch injuries?  I would've thought they'd need another able-heh-bodied worker."

Ron made a choked noise which sounded like barely-suppressed rage.  Rain pressed her lips together.  "What do you need, Draco?" she asked calmly.

There was a strange silence.  Then she heard hesitant footsteps approaching her.  "You look hideous, Professor."  His voice sounded strange--languid as ever, yet as if some reaction were being concealed.

Rain forced a small smile.  "Thank you, Draco.  Are you hurt?  Why are you here?"

"My father--I came to see--"  He broke off, and she felt uncertainty radiating off of him.  "None of your business!" he snarled, and his footsteps stalked away.  A moment later the door slammed.

"Wow!  I wish I knew how you do that!" Ron exclaimed.  "It drives him barking mad!"

Rain sighed.  She was suddenly exhausted.  Summoned by the slamming door, Madam Pomfrey bustled back into the room.

"All right, dear," she said to Ron.  "Take it slowly on your way back to Gryffindor Tower, and mind you watch more closely for Bludgers next time."

"Yes, ma'am," Ron said.  "Professor Rain, I hope you feel better soon!"  With that, he clattered out of the infirmary.

Soft footsteps approached Rain's bed.  "The headmaster suggested I give you a tisane to help you sleep," Madam Pomfrey said.  "Severus may not be back tonight."

Rain nodded and felt her fingers being curled around a heavy ceramic mug.  She held it gently to her lips and tasted chamomile and peppermint, mixed with blood from her cracked lips.  Her last waking thought was a hope she and Remus could forgive each other.

~*~

_Lies.  How many lies?_  Remus paced the bounds of his office, fuming.  He had trusted her, had given her something so precious it frightened him, and she had trampled it underfoot like so much offal!  He jumped when a knock sounded at his door.  Standing still and listening, he hoped that whomever it was would just--

The knock came again.  Remus growled under his breath and strode to answer it.

Albus Dumbledore stood before him, in a brocade dressing gown with matching slippers and cap.  Remus turned away wordlessly and walked back into the room, leaving the door open.  _Grow up,_ he told himself.  _This isn't his fault._

_The hell it isn't.  Albus had to have known about the lamia._  He folded his arms over his chest and waited, back to the door.

"Is it fair of you to condemn her as a monster, Remus?" the headmaster asked softly.  It wasn't the question Remus had been expecting.  He half turned.

"What?"  Dumbledore said nothing.  Remus scowled down at his desk.  "That isn't it at all.  I didn't say she was a monster!  Look at me," he added bitterly.  "I'm not the person to call anyone a monster."

"Indeed."

"She kept it from me, Albus.  How can I trust her when all my life she's been keeping secrets from me?"

"How did Rain learn of your lycanthropy?"

Ouch.  "She and Lily worked it out.  But we were just children!  I would have told her!  I--"

"When?" Albus interrupted.  "When she had seen all other chances for a family pass her by, would you then have told her of your self-imposed vow of loneliness?"

"That's not fair," Remus found himself protesting.  He blushed.  He sounded thirty years younger than he actually was.

To his surprise, Albus chuckled.  'Thank goodness the world is run by Remus Lupin.  He is going to make it a fair place to live."

Remus bit his lip.  He deserved that.  "She lied to me once about the Slytherins in her family," he said half-heartedly.

"And I will say again, as I said to her earlier this evening, as I said to her mother before her, and as I seem to remember saying on more than one occasion to a certain young werewolf I know:  Our blood does not determine who or what we are."  Albus put a hand on Remus' shoulder.  "She learned of her lamia ancestry after you had gone your separate ways.  She would have told you, given time.  You should not hold it against her."

Remus turned away, clenching his teeth.  "I thought we had moved past not trusting one another," he said stubbornly.  "I thought we were--I thought she--"  He broke off and laughed hollowly.  "I thought foolishly."

Dumbledore was silent as Remus paced to the wall.  When he swung around to pace back, he saw that the headmaster had settled himself into a chair, his hands folded complacently, a somber expression on his face.  Irrationally, it fanned Remus' anger.  He scowled again.

"Headmaster, you can't expect me to greet this sort of news with jubilation," he said, wishing, oddly, that he sounded more like Severus Snape and less like a sulky Draco Malfoy.  He was skilled at angst; it was caustic he had trouble with.

Dumbledore met his gaze, reproach patent in his crystalline eyes.  Suddenly it seemed far too much effort to stay angry, and Remus sat down, feeling rather sorry for himself.  "She didn't make any effort to find me," he said, thinking back to those long lonely years.  "I wanted to go to her.  I knew I had to protect her, but I wanted to go to her.  I wanted her to look for me."  He sighed.  "I think I even wanted her to find me, and sod the consequences."  The headmaster still said nothing, and Remus put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.  "More the fool I, I would have let her throw everything away, if she'd come looking for me."  He huffed bitterly.  "Except, of course, that she didn't."

Dumbledore sighed.  "Please do not ask me to feel sorry for you," he said, his tone less amiable than usual.  "You did not have to leave her, Remus.  You were not the only reason she was in danger, and you certainly were not the only protection she had."

Stung, Remus opened his mouth to retort, but Dumbledore shook his head.  His blue eyes smiled at him.  "Look deeper, Remus.  I believe you are angry because tonight you feared you might lose her."

Remus stared at him.  After a moment he shut his mouth; he knew there was something he should say, but he couldn't for the life of him think what it might be.  He blinked.

Dumbledore began to laugh.  "Remus, your face is a study.  Come now, you must see you are behaving rather foolishly."  He sobered slightly, though his blue eyes still held a telltale twinkle.  "Life is hard.  Pain comes to everyone.  And there are some things that must be, in order for others to come about.  Your suffering, and Rain's, has made you both stronger people.  It has given you both resolve.  Do not be so eager to give up what is at last coming within your grasp again."

Remus felt shame welling up around the confusion.  He had a right to be angry, yes--someone had tried to kill Rain!--but the headmaster was right; he should never have taken it out on Rain.  So she had missed opportunities to tell him; he'd passed by a few of those while he debated about telling her he was a werewolf.  And besides, she was right.  He had left her once.  How was she to know he wouldn't do it again?  Good lord, after the way he'd treated her, he practically deserved to be lied to!

"No, Remus."

"No?"  He looked up.  Dumbledore was smiling at him.

"I won't let you do that spiral into guilt, either.  If you continue to believe yourself unworthy of love, you will begin to act unworthy.  You are man enough to own up to your mistakes, and she is woman enough to forgive you."  His hand gripped Remus' shoulder more tightly.  "Right now, you must help me protect her.  To Severus will fall the task of learning who did this."

~*~

Severus wanted nothing more than sleep when he returned to Hogwarts from Kent.  His head ached and he was heartsick at the night's work.

Lagrimas, a little wizarding village in Kent, was home to a famous magical researcher by the name of Prasanna Patil--no relation, that he knew of, to his students Padma and Parvati.  Prasanna and her Muggle husband had not been home when the Death Eaters converged on their home.  The Death Eaters, at Voldemort's command, had ensured they would not have a home to which to return.

At least there had been no killing this time.  He had been afraid one or both of them would be home.  So far he hadn't been ordered to kill anyone with his own wand--this time around--but even standing by and watching as others did the work, left him disgusted and longing for a shower.

But how could your soul have a shower?

He shivered involuntarily as he entered the castle and directed his steps to his dungeon quarters.  A good portion of his disgust was aimed at himself; only fifteen years earlier he had stood by and approved what the Death Eaters had done, making havoc of those who opposed Voldemort, entering every house, dragging off men and women, committing them to torture.  Yes, there was still much to atone for, and even the work he did for Dumbledore could not erase the stain of those sins--not when his hands were tied and he was forced to look on in impotence while undeserving people were brutally tortured and killed.

When he reached the slight solace of his rooms, he had a terse message from Dumbledore:  Rain is in the infirmary.  Come quickly.

He cursed and left his rooms, taking long strides towards the hospital wing.  The Potions Master had been summoned; did that mean her treatments had failed somehow?  Impossible.  But what else could it be?

To his surprise, Draco Malfoy was lingering in the passage outside the Slytherin dungeon.  Severus flashed him a withering glare.  "Go to bed, Malfoy," he snapped.  The boy shot him a look that in any other child might have been hurt, and withdrew into the dungeon.  Snape wished there were someone less important about so he could really lash out--someone like Crabbe or Bulstrode, who had no potentially redeeming qualities.

When he reached the hospital wing, there was a single lamp burning just inside the door.  He imagined it had been left for him; the message from Dumbledore was apparently several hours old by now.  He moved stealthily along the row of empty beds until he found the one sheltering Rain.  He would have passed her, had he not recognized the dark pool of curls around her head.  White gauze, which was wrapped around her eyes, shone faintly in the flickering light.  Above and below the gauze, her skin was raw and blistered, leaving him no illusions about the condition of her eyes.  One hand, resting on the pillow by her head, was swathed in bandages up to the elbow.

Severus thought of Draco Malfoy lingering in the shadows, and decided he would have a little chat with him later.  He unclenched his teeth carefully.  In the meantime, there was Rain.

He didn't want to wake her, but he needed to examine her eyes.  A potion of regeneration would require salamander blood; since this was obviously burn-related, tears of phoenix would also be necessary.  Considering Rain's condition, he had a feeling someone had been feeling clever and used the Solarus Tormente curse.  He cursed himself for confirming Lucius' suspicions on that matter.

Severus stood for several moments and watched her sleep.  There had been few intimate moments such as this in his life.  She looked so tired, even asleep.  The lines around her mouth were faint, but he could see them.  He wondered what her life had been like as Lady of Clan McGonagall.  He could have kept in contact with her after school, of course, even though they had taken different paths; their families had been connected since her father and his had been at Hogwarts together.  He knew of her struggles with the lamia bloodlust and alcohol, and he wondered if her life could somehow have been as much a hell as his.

Pressing his lips together, he put out a hand to grasp her shoulder, firmly yet gently.  She awoke with a swift intake of breath, then took several even quicker breaths, inspired by what he knew to be fear.

"Katraina," he said, catching her questing hand in one of his.  "You are in the infirmary."

She sat up.  "Remus?" she said, her voice small.

Severus felt his face twist in a grimace.  "Not exactly," he said, trying unsuccessfully to not sound bitter.  "Though doubtless you wish I were."

"No.  No, Severus, I'm glad you're here."  She sounded it, too, damn her.  Why did she have to be so sincere in her friendliness towards him?

"Are you in much pain?" he asked, his voice harsher than he had intended.

"Well, yes.  I rather wish my head would fall off."

He felt himself oddly moved by pity.  It was an unusual sensation.  "I will help you," he said, and was rewarded by a smile that made her lip crack and dribble blood down her chin.  He caught his breath, extended his finger to wipe away the blood.

At the contact she flinched, but quickly moved to let him touch her.  As he caught the droplet of blood and ran his finger gently up to her lip, he was very conscious of their physical proximity.  His breath shuddered into his lungs.  Rain, Rain, who always had tenderness for him--he wished he had the courage to place his lips where his finger was.

Then she hissed slightly in pain, and the spell was broken.  He scowled and clenched his teeth.  "This is unforgivable," he snarled.  She opened her mouth, but he said, "I have to look at your eyes."

She closed her mouth and nodded, leaning forward.  He reached behind her head and unfastened the gauze.  When he saw her swollen eyelids and loden-coloured eyes, reddened, blistered, and staring blankly, he felt his own eyes smart in sympathy.  He clenched his teeth and said nothing until Rain said his name in a small, frightened voice.

"It's going to be alright, Katraina," he said with a rough sort of tenderness.  "I can have a potion ready by tomorrow evening.  Poppy usually allows me the use of her cauldron here."

"Then you'll stay and keep me company?" she asked, her voice aching with eagerness.  She reached out a hand in entreaty.

Damn her.  "I'm no fit company for a lady tonight," he said.

"Then it's lucky you only have to be fit company for a friend.  Start your potion and then tell me what's troubling you."

_You are among those troubles_.  But he sighed and nodded.  "Yes," he said.  "I'll be back."  He touched her hand, pushing it gently away from him, and walked away.


	6. Heart's Desire

**Chapter Six - Heart's Desire**

_"Evil is uncertain in the same degree as good, and for the reason that we ought not to hope too securely, we ought not to fear with too much dejection."_

_-- Samuel Johnson_

Remus was grateful for the strong coffee served with his breakfast the next morning. It did make him feel more human, he thought wryly. Thank God he had the first lesson of the day free. That triggered a pang of guilt; he should apologize to Rain. He had spent much of the previous night reading all he could about the lamia; he had extinguished the candles only an hour before dawn, and this morning he had felt it would be easier to drag a Hungarian Horntail out of bed than it had himself.

Fighting back yawns, he stumbled off towards a lesson on kelpies. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were waiting for him. Orla Quirke and Dennis Creavey were sitting eagerly in the front row, chattering excitedly.

"I thought he was going to pop his cork when I dropped my newt's eye in before the slug scales," Dennis was saying as Remus took their graded quizzes out of his briefcase.

"He was crankier than usual," Orla agreed. "He looked like he didn't sleep last night or something. But, Dennis, if you'd paid attention in the lecture instead of drawing pictures of Padma Patil, you would have known--"

"All right, all right," Dennis said amiably. "So I messed it up. There was no need for thirty points off Gryffindor, was there?"

Remus bit back a grin as he called the class to order, but he made a mental note to find out why Snape was crankier than usual. He hated having anything to do with Snape, especially since the Slytherin's little slip of the tongue that had let Remus' secret out two years ago. Still, Snape had agreed to brew the Wolfsbane Potion again this year, so perhaps he was resigned to working together.

At the lunch break, Remus let the sixth year Hufflepuffs go without assigning homework and headed down to Snape's dungeon office. No one answered his knock, and there was no light visible under the door. After making sure the Potions classroom was empty, he headed back up to the Great Hall. Snape was probably at lunch.

But the Head Table was noticeably empty of both Snape and Rain. He sighed. Well, Snape apparently didn't want to be found, and since Remus was none too eager to find him in the first place, he was more than happy to leave off looking. Rain, however, was probably still captive in the hospital wing. It was time for that apology.

As he passed by the Gryffindor table he heard Ron say Rain's name. He slowed down to listen. "She even likes the Cannons!" the redhead finished, enthusiastically.

"I'm surprised you like someone who seems to get on so well with Snape," his sister replied. Remus wondered if she had recovered from her fear of exposure. He knew Rain had spoken with her.

"Ugh!" Ron said. "Well, I reckon even _he_ has to be right sometimes."

Remus chuckled as he passed out of hearing. Rain had definitely made an impression on the youngest Weasley boy. Of course she was popular with the Ravenclaws. He wondered what the Slytherins thought of her.

Madam Pomfrey was rather stiff with him when she told him Rain had gone out for a while. "I didn't think it was a good idea, but most of the burns had healed. Her eyes worry him, of course, but he wanted to see how she reacted to sunlight."

"The headmaster came to get her, then?" Remus asked.

Pomfrey blinked, then lifted an eyebrow. "The headmaster? Oh, no, Professor. I spoke of Severus."

After a moment he closed his mouth. He felt rather like he had the night Padfoot and Moony had thought it would be fun to tease a hedgehog, and ended up with both prickles and flea bites. "Oh," he said after a long time. "I--Oh." He turned to go, then looked over his shoulder. "Er, thank you, Poppy."

She softened slightly. "You're welcome, dear. I believe they were going to the courtyard. You might look for them there."

True, he had been looking for them both, but not in a million years had he wanted to find them together. His feet took him to the courtyard without asking his permission. When he stepped out the door, however, they abruptly stopped moving. He felt a small body collide with his back, then a first year Hufflepuff went past him, squeaking, "'Scuse me, professor, sir!" He ignored the student and stared at the potions master and his patient.

Rain was sitting on a bench, her face tilted up towards the sky. Seated next to her, his shoulders almost touching hers, was Snape. He was looking up, too, his eyes apparently fixed on the astronomy tower. He was smiling.

Ouch. Remus backed up. He had never seen Snape smile--at least, never unless that smile meant bad news for some hapless Gryffindor. Certainly he had never seen anything approaching happiness on the sour Slytherin's face. Yet in an unguarded moment with Rain, Snape was smiling.

Remus deserved this. He knew he deserved it. But he had to swallow hard to dislodge the lump in his throat as he shuffled back towards his office. She still loved him, didn't she? Surely she did.

~*~

Severus did not make Rain feel comfortable, ever, but he certainly did make her very conscious of being alive. He had surprised her by showing up just as Madam Pomfrey was taking her lunch tray, and demanding Pomfrey let her out for a walk.

"A walk, Severus?" Rain had asked dryly.

He didn't hesitate. "The treatments worked admirably on most of the burns. Before administering the cure, I'd like to see how your skin responds to sunlight."

"Will it make a difference in how you brew the cure?" she asked curiously.

Silence. Then, "Perhaps."

"I don't think it's a good idea, Professor Snape," Pomfrey said, her voice sharp. "People with lamia ancestry--"

"Are sensitive to sunlight, yes," he hissed. "Katraina, however, has chosen mortality, and has been taking the Sangrapura Potion for several weeks now. The traces of lamia blood in her veins have been...resting."

"Ah, so that would be why Solarus Tormente didn't kill her," Pomfrey said.

"Among other reasons," Rain put in archly. "Thank you for the reminder." She put aside the bedclothes, hoping she was fully covered, and stood up. Severus's arm manifested itself under her outstretched hand, and she accepted his graceful lead down the ward and out the door.

"That was deft," she said, appreciating the escape.

"It was not entirely for my own pleasure," Severus said, and his voice seemed less tense than it had in the infirmary. Rain noted the 'entirely' but chose to say nothing, though she allowed herself a tiny smile.

He had led her past the Great Hall, where most of Hogwarts's residents were employed at lunch, and out into the courtyard. Guiding her to a bench, he helped her get settled before sitting down next to her. She wondered if it were her imagination that he sat down very near; with a tiny shrug of her shoulders, she ascertained that it was not. For the past fifteen minutes he had been giving her a snide running commentary of the comings and goings of the students and faculty through the courtyard. This had proven particularly amusing and appalling when a small group of Slytherins--led by Pansy Parkinson--had encountered Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the Weasley Twins.

"Ah, young Miss Parkinson seems to have forgotten how to sneer. No, wait, there it is again. Potter's got his fists clenched; reminds me of that pretentious git of a father he had. Odd, isn't it, how he didn't know old _Prongs_ but still turned out so much like him. Such a shame. Oh, now Weasley's ears are as red as his hair. Dear, dear, look at Miss Weasley--she's so pale her freckles are jumping. Ah, Master Crabbe is cracking his knuckles while Miss Bulstrode flexes her biceps. I believe Miss Granger is going to jump on Miss Parkinson. Potter!" His voice cracked sharply through the air. "Save it for the Quidditch Pitch. The Gryffindors unfairly outnumber the Slytherins. Five points from Gryffindor."

He chuckled nastily. "Hadn't noticed me here. Foolish children."

"Severus!" she protested, trying not to laugh. "You're impossible!"

"Thank you," he said smoothly.

Snickering, Rain turned her face up to the sun. She loved being outside, loved the pressure and heat of sunlight on her skin, but her face tingled, and she could feel her skin pinking as they sat there. She didn't want to admit it, since Severus had seemed so relaxed since they sat down. Still... He had forbidden her to take another dose of the Sangrapura Potion before coming out, saying it might interact badly with the potion for her eyes--or vice versa. After the strict warnings he had given her about the potency of the Sangrapura, she wasn't at all eager to try mixing it with anything. _No alcohol,_ he had said when he gave her the first dose. _God alone knows what it would do to you, but I think it's safe to say it would probably involve a great deal of writhing in agony. Not to mention nausea and possibly death. Please don't drink while you're taking this, Katraina._

It had been the please that caught her attention; after all, Severus had never been known to say please to anyone. She had swallowed against a sudden fear, and forced herself to smile tightly at him. "I don't drink anymore, Severus. I say I'm an alcoholic because the rule is, 'Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic'. But I'm recovering. Dry. For twelve years now." He hadn't looked at all abashed; he had merely  levelled an unblinking black stare at her. She had matched him, and they probably would still be standing there, glowering at one another, had Minerva not come into the room and scorned them for behaving immaturely.

Next to her, Severus suddenly tensed; she could feel the change in his demeanor, so close were they sitting. "What is it?" she asked.

He was silent. Her mind flashed through several scenarios, from a glumbumble on her shoulder all the way to hordes of Death Eaters marching up from Hogsmeade.

"Severus?"

He sighed next to her and she relaxed slightly. "The wer--Lupin was there. He left."

She bit her lip against a twinge of regret, then shook her head. "He can jolly well apologize to me in front of you, if he's sorry," she said aloud.

Severus shifted. "Apologize for what?"

"I hadn't told him about my--condition. He figured it out, of course, once he knew it was Solarus Tormente. He--ah, shouted."

"You...hadn't told him?" Severus repeated, astonishment evident in his acerbic voice.

"Well, it isn't as if I had had the time. I only saw him again the day I came back."

"Back from where?"

"Not _from_ anywhere, Severus--_to_. Back to Hogwarts."

"You found out about the lamia years ago," he said slowly. "You said you'd been looking for a cure for years."

"Yes, and I wish I'd thought to ask you for help years ago. I _knew_ you were potions master. I should have--"

"But Lupin--"

She twigged suddenly to what he was getting at. "Severus, before I came back to Hogwarts this August, Remus and I hadn't spoken for fourteen years. After Lily and James--he left. And I started drinking."

The silence next to her was so profound she could feel all the way through her. Well, it was nice to know she still had the knack for astonishing Severus. She swung her feet gently and enjoyed the pressure of the sun on her face. Oh, she was going to have such a sunburn if they didn't go back inside soon!

"Fourteen years," Severus said faintly.

Inside the school a bell sounded. He jumped and then swore. "I have fifth years. Come, I'll escort you back to the infirmary. I must get to the dungeon before Master MacMillan and Miss Abbott blow it up."

Good, he'd got his sarcasm back. Still, she wondered at the depth of his reaction to her statement. Dumbledore had hinted... But no, surely he wouldn't... She was given even more to think about when Severus deposited her at Madam Pomfrey's door, placing a light kiss on her hand.

~*~

When Remus had dismissed his final lesson, a school owl fluttered into his classroom. The note was terse, written in a spiky Edwardian script. _The restoration potion will be ready just before sundown. Dumbledore thought you should know._ I, the note did not say, could not have cared less--though the handwriting plainly stated it. Remus grimaced and dropped the note into his briefcase, then dusted his hand against his robes. He wouldn't put it past Snape to coat the paper with silver dust. He finished gathering his things and was about to leave when a tiny owl came zipping in, hooting excitedly. It zoomed energetically about his head until he absently cast a Petrificus at it.

_Dear__Church__. You probably won't remember me, but we met once this summer, at the top of the moving staircase behind the gargoyle. I work for Gringotts, and have been recently working on an account for a couple living in Godric's Hollow. I'm sorry for being so circumspect, but one is never sure, these days, if an owl will arrive precisely where he is meant to. This one is a loan; your reply, if you have one, must be sent by another owl, who is friendly with this one. I have news for Flame. Please meet me for a full report. Horus._

Remus frowned thoughtfully at the parchment. It had obviously been penned by a Phoenician--Flame was one of Dumbledore's codenames, and Remus had been jokingly dubbed Church by Frank Clearwater, whose Muggle wife had an obsession with the Muggle Prime Minister Churchill; he needed to remember to loan a copy of _The Defiant Muggle_ to Mrs Clearwater. But who was Horus?

He folded the parchment several times and thrust it into his pocket, then headed for his rooms to mull it over. Godric's Hollow was where Lily and James had lived--and died--of course, but he wasn't aware of another important couple living there. Or perhaps Horus meant it involved Lily and James's work, somehow. He--or she--worked for Gringotts. He cast his mind over several Phoenicians, coming up blank. Many of them were Aurors or ex-Aurors, with a solitary Unspeakable, but there were just as many who had more mundane lines of work. Though working for Gringotts didn't necessarily mean mundane...of course! That curse-breaker who wore a devil-may-care grin and that horrid dragonskin fedora. He grinned. Bill Weasley.

Arthur had said Bill was going under cover; Remus had nearly forgotten, what with the excitement of the start of term. He wondered what information Bill Weasley could have for Dumbledore, and why he would be sending it to Remus. Oh, bugger. He spun on his heel and hurried back to his office. That crazy ickle owl was still lying on his desk.

"Finite Incantatem!" Remus said, and the creature zoomed happily up to collide with his nose. Resisting the urge to eat the small creature--damn that waxing gibbous moon anyway--he plucked it out of the air and held it firmly as he headed towards the Great Hall. The exhausting little bird would belong to one of the Weasleys, which meant either another Weasley owl or Harry's would be the redelivery.

The buzz from the Slytherin table seemed more unruly than usual. Remus blinked several times and scanned the Great Hall. Ah, that would be why. Draco Malfoy was speaking earnestly with Hermione Granger. Oddly, although she looked distrustful, she did not seem angry. But no wonder the Slytherins were upset--and Snape wasn't around to be a quelling presence.

As Remus looked on, Hermione's expression went from distrust to concern to open horror. Finally she settled on fury. Remus had just started towards her when she cried, "You slimy git! You're worse than your father!"

"Just thought you ought to know, Mudblood," Malfoy drawled, his voice loud in the hush that had followed her outburst. "Your kind will be first. No need to insult my family, as it's purer than you could ever hope to be." He chuckled nastily. "Ooh, but maybe the Weasel will defend you."

Hermione and Remus apparently noticed Ron at the same time. Red-faced, he was storming over from the Gryffindor table. Hermione shot a last, furious glance at Malfoy, then turned her back on him and grabbed Ron's arm. "Ron, no!" she exclaimed. He looked down at her and she said a few words Remus couldn't hear. Ron nodded shortly and--reluctantly, Remus thought--followed her back to the Gryffindor table.

The students gradually settled back into silence, and Remus took his seat at the head table, near Professor Vector. She looked up to smile briefly at him, then cast a longing look back at her book.

"Don't let me interrupt," he said, and her smile gained some warmth. She returned to her reading. Left to entertain himself, Remus found himself thinking back on the Great Hall years ago, and a similar confrontation he had witnessed.

_"Is this slimy git bothering you, Rainstorm?" Sirius's voice was loud and angry, and Remus turned from where he'd been about to check Peter's king._

_The frozen tableau in front of him made him wish Sirius could learn to keep his mouth shut sometimes. Rain, her face three shades of scarlet, was staring at Sirius. At her side, Severus Snape had shrunk back from Sirius but still grasped Rain's upper arm in his skinny fingers. His eyes glittered and his mouth was twisted in a mocking smirk. Sirius's fists were clenched at his side, a muscle working in his jaw._

_"Oh, don't do anything, Sirius," Remus breathed._

_"It isn't as if he really cares," said Peter in a tone that was at once fond and knowing. "He won't look twice at her, but if Snape looks like he wants her, the fat lady has sung." Remus glanced at him, surprised by the echo of his own less-than-charitable thoughts. "I can see, Moony," Peter said. He looked rather sorry, too._

_Remus nodded, but his reply was cut off by Rain's angry retort. "Why don't you mind your own bloody business, Black!" she said, scowling at him._

_Remus snickered. Sirius wasn't used to hearing sass from Rain. Snape looked surprised, as well._

_"He's a dodgy git, Rainstorm, and he doesn't have the class to talk to you. Ugh, can't you smell him?"_

_"Fine words, from someone who reeks of canines, Black," Snape hissed. "Someone ought to warn those pathetic fools who pass for your friends--if they spend too much time with you, people might think they're as stupid as you are." He sneered. "They already smell like shit."_

_Rain turned her furious glance on him and he subsided. Then she looked at Sirius for the finishing blow. "You want to keep a civil tongue, Black. You're obstreperous. Five points from Gryffindor. Now sod off and let me finish my conversation with Snape in peace."_

"Perfessor Lupin?" He shook himself out of the past. Hagrid was holding out a dish. He took it, nodding his thanks. "Have yeh heard abou' Snape? He's been in a right bad mood today, but Harry and Ron said they saw 'im sitting in the courtyard wi' Rain!"

Remus lost his appetite. He wondered if there were any way to politely tell Hagrid to shove off, but instead he looked up and up to meet Hagrid's scrutiny with a bland expression. "Don't you remember, Hagrid? Rain and Severus were friends back in school."

Hagrid chuckled. "Yeh, never woulda believed it, but she always managed to bring out the best in ever'body. Just like her sister, that one. Even made old Snape act human sometimes."

"I suppose it's because Severus doesn't gladly suffer a fool, and Rain is probably the least foolish person he knows."

"I'd put it mostly to 'er persistence," Hagrid said. He seemed to be attempting to send Remus a psychic message. Resorting to the vague smile that had become his best defense, Remus said, "Well, Hagrid, I'm afraid I should be going. I have an appointment with the headmaster."

"Oh, go on, go on! Wouldn' want to keep the headmaster waiting! Great man, Dumbledore..."

Remus slipped off to the hospital wing before Hagrid could tell him again the story of Buckbeak's escape.

~*~

Draco Malfoy was feeling discontented. He sank lower in his tall wooden chair and put his elbows on the arms. The chair resembled a throne, which he felt was appropriate for the self-appointed Prince of Slytherin. None of the others challenged his ownership of that chair, not anymore. After a few well-placed surprise curses, he had in his third year eliminated all other claims to that throne. Even the sixth and seventh years kept clear of his wrath. Now, as a prefect, his claim could not be challenged.

Tonight this gave him no pleasure. He steepled his fingers in front of his face and glared broodingly through them at the flickering fire. He did not understand the source of this...restlessness.

Anger he recognized. Hatred, greed, cruelty, condescension--all these he knew and welcomed. But this--this uncertainty that burned his mind--this he did not know, and it frightened him.

Oh, yes, 'frightened'. He knew it, though he would rather have cut off his own hand than admit it. It was the first time he had ever admitted fear, even to himself. Fear was the mind-killer.

_Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain._

Fear was the mind-killer; it paralyzed your cunning and weakened resolve.

Until fifth year, his ambition, his resolve, had been bent on one thing: to be a Prince among Slytherins, a Malfoy's Malfoy, and in so doing to make his father proud. Now _she_ seemed to think there were other ways. That he had a choice.

Snarling at no one, he stood up and swept his robes about him, an conscious imitation of the other hero in his life. Glowering at all and sundry, he swept--well, attempted to sweep--out of the Slytherin Dungeon and off down the dark halls. He had spoken to the Mudblood at supper. Voluntarily touched her--yech, his hand still felt it--and looked into the dirty brown eyes. "They'll act this year, Mudblood," he'd told her. He told himself he was threatening, not warning, her. Part of him believed it. "Don't ever relax. 'Constant vigilance' as our favourite Death Eater used to say. He did us all a favour." There, that sounded better.

And she had had the audacity to call him a slimy git.

He didn't fear any Weasley, didn't fear Potter, though he knew the stupid Gryffindor would like to think so. He stood his ground when the redheaded pillock approached. He could take care of himself. Crabbe and Goyle were mostly for show; it was nice never to have to get your hands dirty.

But the Mudblood had told the Weasel it wasn't worth the trouble. That he, Draco, was to be pitied. Pitied by a Mudblood! He swallowed his suddenly fury and blinked slowly at her. Never let your emotion control you, that was what his father had taught him. _He who angers you conquers you,_ Lucius had said a hundred times.

Draco stumbled and then cursed at himself. _Pay attention, you fool! Quit thinking about Mudbloods! They're not worthy of your notice!_ He looked around him. His feet had carried him, while his mind was occupied, to a well-lit corridor lined with suits of armour. As he set off down the hall, each suit raised its sword in a swift salute. _Strange,_ he thought, _why don't I remember seeing this place before?_

And that horrible prat Potter! Might as well call him the Boy Who Slummed. Hanging out with Mudbloods and Weasleys. Part of Draco's deep-seated hatred of Potter was because the Hero of Gryffindor thought he could best the Prince of Slytherin. And a part of his hatred went back to a day four years ago, when Draco had offered an alliance and that alliance had been spurned.

Draco's memory twinged as though there were something he should remember. He dismissed it with a sniff. No one refused a Malfoy! In the wizarding world, to set yourself against a Malfoy was to commit political and social suicide. Oh, yes, Potter was going the way of his parents.

Draco climbed the narrow steps in front of him automatically, slinking around the inner column as they spiralled upwards. Spending forty-eight hours with Harry Potter was Draco's idea of the Ninth Level of Hell--and yet, somehow, it had happened. He scowled. He wished he could remember what had happened. There had been a woman there--Angelica? Andromeda?--and cats. He liked cats. There had been a small, slinky Siamese that took to him, sitting just out of arm's reach, staring up at him, tip of its tail twitching. And he--

The black wall slammed down again. That was all. That was the most he could remember. The stairway ended abruptly, and he looked around. He was on a small landing, with a wooden door directly facing him. Gingerly he lifted the latch on the door. It didn't open. Pulling out his wand, he whispered, "Alohamora!" and it swung gently inward.

Before him was an empty room--empty, save shadows, and a large mirror at the opposite end. He walked slowly towards it. There were carvings around the edge, words, but none he knew: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_. He studied it for a few moments, then shrugged and looked in the mirror, expecting to see a tall, lithe blond teenager, with brooding silver eyes.

In a way, he did. He was standing there, but he wasn't smirking, and behind him, smiling down at him, were Professors Snape, Dumbledore, and Rain.

He leaped back, turning--but no one was there. He spun again and looked, and there they were. Snape was very, very pale, but he also looked very, very proud...of Draco? His eyes went back to the carvings, and by chance they fell on the last word first. "No," he muttered as their meaning sank in. "No."

_I show not your face but your heart's desire._

~*~

In the infirmary, Dumbledore looked suddenly distant. "Well, well," he said softly, smiling into his beard. To Severus it seemed a very satisfied smile. "Will wonders never cease."

Severus and Remus exchanged identical looks of puzzlement as the headmaster straightened. "Ladies, gentlemen, you will please excuse me." And with that he crossed the room in three long strides and was gone, leaving Pomfrey, Lupin, and Severus to stare after him.

"Headmaster?" Rain said. "Severus, what happened?"

"He left," Severus replied, glancing at Lupin. What a strange sensation, to be the one to whom Rain turned for answers, even with the werewolf present. Snape bit his tongue. She hated that; she had chided him on more than one occasion, for using that word. Lupin's gold eyes seemed more sad than hostile as he gazed back at him. Could it be that he believed he had lost her?

Snape turned away, back towards the now-empty cauldron and the potion cooling in vials on the table. No. Even if she wanted to choose him, he could not allow it. He would drive her away before he let that happen. It was true that he hated Remus bitterly for loving her, but even the werewolf would do her less harm than Snape the turncoat.

"Should we wait for him to come back?" Lupin was asking.

Snape sneered at him, relieved to have a reason. "Brilliant idea, Lupin! Why don't you hold up the sunset, as the potion has to be administered in the light of the sun, when neither sun nor stars are in the sky?"

Lupin actually flinched from Snape's caustic reply. Severus bit back a triumphant smirk and waited for an angry retort.

"Very well, Severus," Lupin said mildly, spoiling the argument. "I had forgotten about that."

"Yet another reason why I am the potions master, and you are not!" Severus hissed. The sun was visible on the cusp of the horizon. He went to Rain and touched her hand. "Katraina," he said, in another tone entirely, "it is nearly time. Come to the window." She gripped his hand in strong fingers which, he noted, were trembling. "Don't be afraid," he whispered as she slid off the bed and he guided her to the window seat. "I took special care with this potion."

She smiled at him and he sighed. God, how he hated her for making him love her! "I know," she said. "You were here supervising it every free moment you had."

Severus glanced at Lupin. Yes, that was definitely jealousy that had flickered across the other man's face. Sending him a sarcastic smile, Severus unstoppered the bottle. "This will feel very cold," he cautioned Rain. "Take off the bandage."

As soon as she obeyed, he dashed the contents of the bottle in her face. When it hit her, she shivered and cried out, but he could see a blue glow as the potion spread across her skin, pooled in her eyes, and ran like tears down her cheeks. Her reddened skin softened and faded back to porcelain, pus-filled blistered dried up, and her eyes cleared.

He could see the moment she began to see again: a soft light came into her green eyes, and they fixed on his face. She smiled again, and lifted a hand to his cheek and held it there a long time.

"Severus," she said finally. "You are so different when you smile."

He wished instantly that she hadn't said it. The anger and resentment inspired by her tenderness flared up again. But he masked it, and boldly took her into his arms and pulled her to him. She put her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.

"Thank you," she said, her voice muffled. "Thank you so much."

He did not look up, even when a soft snick from the door told him Lupin and Pomfrey had gone.

~*~

"Does the Mirror of Erised displease you, Mr Malfoy? I have never seen it do so to any living man."

The soft voice made him turn again, and he stared as the headmaster slowly appeared next to him. "You can't Apparate or Disapparate in Hogwarts," he said automatically, and Dumbledore chuckled.

"There are many ways of being invisible, Mr Malfoy, and you did not answer my question."

"Because it's none of your business what my heart's deepest desire is!" he snapped. Doddering old fool, who did he think he was?

To his surprise, Dumbledore grinned delightedly. "Ah, you worked that out, did you? Very well done, Draco. Harry needed a hint."

He couldn't suppress the flash of satisfaction that those words inspired. To hide it he sneered at the headmaster. "Yes, well, that's no surprise, is it? He probably would have been expelled his first year if it weren't for his Mudblood girlfriend."

Dumbledore's expression did not change, but Draco immediately regretted having called her that. "None of us can do without friends, Draco," Dumbledore said quietly. "Do you remember that, when twilight falls around you, morning's son. Choose your friends carefully." He smiled then, his eyes twinkling in the dim light.

"A Malfoy has no friends," Draco snarled. "A Malfoy needs no friends."

"Ah," said the headmaster, and he turned as if to go.

"Snape!" Draco blurted suddenly, and stared at Dumbledore in astonishment, since he could not stare so at himself. "Snape and Rain and you!" Then he found himself abruptly terrified, and before Dumbledore could speak, he had bolted for the door.

He clattered down several turnings of the stairs, then chose at random an exit from them. This hall was lined with portraits of men and women dressed in robes of silvery grey and deep whispery green. These portraits did not move, but nonetheless their gaze weighed heavily on him so that he slowed to a walk. At first the faces looked kind and wise, but then they became solemn faces. When he had gone a little further, he found faces that seemed more familiar: the faces here looked very strong and proud and happy, but they looked cruel. A little further on they looked crueler. Further on again, they were still cruel but they were no longer happy. They were even despairing faces: as if the people they belonged to had done dreadful things and also suffered dreadful things.

The last figure of all was the most interesting--a woman even more richly dressed than the others, very tall, with a look of such fierceness and pride that it took his breath away. Draco paused, his heart thumping wildly, to stare at her. Suddenly her eyes moved and she stared straight into his eyes. He jumped backwards and then dashed the few remaining steps to the far end of the hall. Scrabbling at the door handle, he burst through it and found himself in the familiar safety of the library. He gave a small sob of relief and ignored the seventh year Ravenclaw who glared and shushed him. After a moment he straightened, dusted off his robes, and headed for the dungeon.

But even when he was ensconced once more in his Slytherin throne, the words haunted him.

_Your heart's desire._


	7. Vide Vocaro

**Chapter Seven - Vide Vocaro**

_"Now entertain conjecture of a time_

_When creeping murmur and the poring dark_

_Fills the wide vessel of the universe."_

_-- Henry V 4.0.1-3_

Remus was out of favour.  Between teaching Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, he kept kicking himself for his romantic ineptitude.  He had spent the day drafting apologies to Rain, dismissing each in turn as too pompous, too craven, too loquacious, or too supercilious.  He had seen Harry and Hermione giving him strange looks as he lectured on primitive deflective spells.  Somehow he had dragged himself through each lesson, skipping lunch and avoiding the Great Hall at dinner.

Ensconced in his office, he busied himself with meaningless tasks that occupied his hands but unfortunately left his mind free to roam.  He felt powerless as he watched his cherished hopes of a future with Rain spiral down the drain with the water from his grindylow tank.  He had been foolish, had lashed out at her when she was vulnerable, and he had thrown away his chance.  She had turned to Snape.  Snape!  He gave the tank an extra-hard polish, scowling ferociously.  If it had been Sirius, he could have understood, could even have forgiven her.  But Snape!

Growling, Remus tossed his rag into the dustbin and stalked across his office.  He was such a stupid prat!  He conveniently ignored the memory, persistent as a hungry cat, of the moonlit walk in Hunter's Combe, the tears in Rain's eyes as she told him she'd loved him for twenty years.  No, perhaps she had loved him, or thought she loved him until he made an ass of himself over her secret.  And Snape had known already, and accepted her--loved her.

Oh yes, Remus could see it, even if Rain couldn't.  No one had ever imagined Snape could love anything, but Rain had always given him more credit than that, and Remus could see now the effects of the years of her belief in the Potions Master.  Snape would hurt her.  Might even have to betray her in order to bring Voldemort down.  And he would, if he had to.  Slytherins used any means to achieve their ends, and Severus Snape was all Slytherin.

Then again, Rain had lived with Slytherins half her life.  She could handle Snape--probably the only person in the world who could, besides Albus Dumbledore.  He wondered what Dumbledore thought of the whole affair.  He would have seen the potential there; he knew more about what went on in this school than anyone, and he knew Snape better than anyone.  Remus clenched his teeth.  He had promised to help Dumbledore protect her, and he would.  He still loved her, no matter how angry she was with him.  No matter if she was finished with him.

Remus was a tidy man by nature, but his fevered search for references on lamia had left his volumes on dark creatures scattered across every horizontal surface in his office.  He began collecting the books and stacking them haphazardly in preparation for replacing them in order on the shelves.  Before he had finished, however, he was startled by a knock on the door.  "Come in," he called, and placed the last armful of books on his desk.  He picked up _Hogwarts: A History_ and turned to greet his caller.  When he saw who it was, he dropped the book.

"You owe me an apology," she said in a low voice.

He clenched his teeth, took a deep breath, and nodded.  "You're right," he said.  "Again.  I shouldn't have been angry at you for not telling me.  I--Dumbledore made me see that--"  He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and started again.  "I was going to tell you that I'm a werewolf, you know.  Before I left school, I mean.  At least, I planned to.  I--I know how hard it is to divulge a secret like that to--to someone you care about."  He gulped.  "To someone you love."

To his surprise, she crossed the room and took his hands in hers.  "I'm sorry, too," she said.  "Sorry that I hadn't figured out how to tell you yet.  Sorry that I said what I did...about leaving."

"You were right," he protested, but she shook her head.

"It doesn't matter if I was right.  I said it, knowing it would hurt you.  I--You know what a horrid temper I have.  It's no excuse, but--well, you know what you're getting yourself into."

He was startled into a laugh.  "Why did you come to me?" he said.  "I would have made me suffer for a bit yet."

She lifted one shoulder in a tiny shrug.  "Funny, isn't it?  I thought love meant never having to say you're sorry."

"No," he said, smiling.  "Love means always having to say you're sorry.  And I am most sorry, Rainy Day."

"Then love must also mean always being forgiven."

He bent his head and kissed her hesitantly, amazed at his own daring, and was gratified when Rain put her arms around him and pulled him closer.  She kissed him with a  vehemence that surprised him, until she pulled back and said, "Don't give up on me, Remus.  Don't ever give up on me, and I won't give up on you."

"How do you read my mind like this?" he whispered, and she leaned back further, smiling impishly.  "I use my powerful Ravenclaw intuition.  Or maybe it's just a woman's particular magic."

He answered her with another kiss, and for several minutes they abandoned words for a conversation of a different sort.  But finally she pulled away with a regretful sigh.  "I'll need your help, Remus," she said, and her eyes were troubled again.  She sounded strangely uncertain.  "I have to find out who did this.  They know what I am.  Maybe--maybe they knew Esme was lamia, too.  And my mother.  Maybe they're the ones who had her killed."

That thought hadn't occurred to him.  He wrapped his arms around her tightly and kissed the top of her head.  "That job, I'm afraid, like the one that restored your sight, has gone to Severus."

She looked up at him in surprise, and he smiled crookedly at her.  "The headmaster seems to think the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor should concentrate on defending you."

She smiled.  "My white knight."

He felt a little sad.  "Grey, I'm afraid, Rain.  Grey, and a little weary and ragged about the edges.  But yours, most assuredly.  Always yours."

~*~

For once Severus was glad to see Peter Pettigrew.  Usually the sight of the ratty little man made Severus's fingers curl with the urge to throttle him--a rare desire in itself, since he much preferred poison over physical violence.  Usually Pettigrew turned his stomach with the hypocrisy of his obsequious fawning to Voldemort and the attempts he made at high-handed superiority over the other Death Eaters.  Usually.

This time, Pettigrew had met Severus alone, at the Three Broomsticks, in disguise, and he was obviously afraid.  Why shouldn't he be?  With one well-timed shout in the crowded pub, Severus could undo the illusion of his death.  Severus's mouth twisted bitterly; Pettigrew ought to know that as long as his disguise left Sirius Black a fugitive, Severus would help him maintain it.

"Why am I here, Wormtail?" he hissed, interrupting Pettigrew's inane nattering.

"P-please, S-Se-Severus," the plump man whined.  "I'm trying to te--"

"You're a fool," Severus said suddenly, leaning over the table.  "A fool to ever abandon Potter and his crowd.  They used you, but at least they pitied you, as well.  Voldemort knows no pity.  He'll use you up, and then dispose of you as he did so many others.  So many of his more faithful followers."  He leaned back in his chair, pleased to see he had rattled the other--man?  Hardly a man.  A rat.

The rat was, at this moment, extremely pale.  He reached under the hood of his cloak to wipe his forehead.  He was breathing very rapidly.  "S-Severus, you have to help me!" he bleated.

"Help you do what?"

"Protect me...protect me from Remus.  He'll find out, and he'll hate me."

"News flash," Severus sneered.  "He already hates you, Peter.  For such a small, impotent little rat, you certainly managed to ruin more than your share of lives."  
  


"But you don't know Remus," Pettigrew replied, his stutter easing.  "He'll take any t-treatment he's given; he thinks he deserves it, by being a werewolf.  B-but if you hurt his f-friends--"

Snape folded his arms across his chest.  "Perhaps you should explain to me what you've done," he suggested in a friendly tone.

"It was only a little curse."  Pettigrew seemed almost to be talking to himself.  "It wasn't as if it were my idea.  It couldn't have hurt her too badly."

Severus took a deep breath, feeling the insane desire to hit him or to exclaim "Aha!" and laugh maniacally.  Neither suited him, so he settled on pinning the little rodent with a serpent's glare.  "So it was you."  The coldness of his voice, paired with sudden icy understanding, made Pettigrew rise halfway.

"Sit!" Snape snapped, and the rat dropped back into his chair as if Stupefied.  "So.  You were the one who sent the curse against Katraina."

Peter dropped his gaze.  Severus studied him, intrigued.  He wasn't at all shocked that Peter had sent the curse; he was, after all, the natural choice.  Even the doltish Gryffindors had to have seen that.  What surprised Severus was the notion that, in addition to a healthy fear of Remus, Pettigrew seemed to feel _guilty about having done it._

"Yes, you'll need protection," Snape agreed after a moment.  "It won't take Lupin long to realize it was you.  I'll try to throw him off your scent, but of course, wolves are very good trackers.  Mm.  I'll do what I can for you, but you were a fool to attack her."

"I had to, Snape!  Our lord s-said he w-would t-take away m-my hand!  My s-sweet silver hand," he murmured, stroking it.  "I c-couldn't let him take that."

"But why Katraina?" Severus mused.  "I remember her at school.  She was kind to you, Wormtail, genuinely kind, though all the others pitied you and looked down on you.  She was never like them, was she.  She was compassionate."

Pettigrew looked up from his silver hand, and for a moment Severus saw a flicker of the old Peter Pettigrew in that soft, saggy face.  It transformed Peter as he grinned.  "She was kind, wasn't she?  Funny, she always treated me as though she liked me on my own.  Just like she did you, Severus."  And for a moment his expression was sly.

It was that brief, so quick Snape almost felt he'd imagined it, but Peter was for that instant more confident, almost comradely, the Gryffindor who dared become a Death Eater.  The intelligent and boyishly eager young prat that a bitter and prejudiced young Snape had known.

Not that he'd cared much for Pettigrew while they were at school.  He hadn't hated him as he had Potter and Black, nor had he held him in the grudging respect he'd had for Lupin--his only rival in Potions--until the latter had tried to kill him.  No, he hadn't hated Pettigrew, but he'd had no use for anyone except those who could help him advance, and Rain.  He found he was clenching his teeth, and forced himself to relax.  "Very well," he said finally, and Pettigrew looked relieved.  "I'll be in touch in a few days.  I'll need time to brew the potions."

"P-protection potions?" Pettigrew stammered, and Snape sighed.  _Yes, P-P-Peter, p-protection p-potions, he thought.  But it was beneath him to mock Pettigrew's infirmity, so he simply inclined his head and watched as the rat's relief grew stronger._

He had had enough.  He stood up and swept his cloak around him.  "You will owe me, Peter," he hissed.  With a final glare, he turned and strode to the bar, where he dropped a few sickles for Rosmerta.  Then he went out into the gloomy afternoon.

~*~

Remus put down his pen and sighed.  He had crafted a terse message in response to Bill Weasley's letter--_I will come.  Name the terms.  Church.--and sent the response with a dubious-looking owl by the name of Errol, borrowed from the twins for the occasion.  He was trying to craft a report for Dumbledore, but kept getting distracted by thoughts of Rain._

She was, he knew, in the library, doing some research on something for her next lecture.  He had walked her to the door after dinner, and they had parted with only an exchange of glances and hasty smiles.  Indiscretion of any sort, he knew, would not be tolerated among the Hogwarts staff.  Still, he couldn't help thinking wistfully that if things had gone differently, they could have begun the term here with a more open relationship.

They had met in the library, all those years ago.  Remus was the only one of the Marauders who voluntarily went to the library, and once he realized she helped Madam Pince there three afternoons a week, his visits had become more frequent.

_There she was!  That pretty, animated little Ravenclaw girl.  She was standing on a stepstool that magically extended itself several inches as he watched.  In her arms was a stack of books, from which she was selecting volumes to place back on the shelves.  Her auburn hair hung in two plaits, and her horn-rimmed glasses--which he had noticed she only needed for reading--had slipped to the tip of her nose.  Remus had never been close enough to her to see the colour of those eyes behind her glasses, and as he imagined it now, he felt his face heating up.  _You are here to do research_, he reminded himself sternly.  _Behave_._

_Oh, bollocks.  He was here because he knew the pretty Ravenclaw worked here.  He just happened to have a convenient excuse.  He walked up behind her.  "Excuse me."_

_"Oh!"  She dropped a whole pile of books._

_"I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to startle you.  I was only wondering if perhaps you could help me find the books on--the books on--er, magical laws regarding beasts, erm magical beast--ah, beings, that is, er, er--werewolves."  _Right.  Smooth, Lupin_._

_"Oh, of course!  There's a paper for Defense Against the Dark Arts, isn't there?"_

_"Yes, that's right--ah, fourth year."_

_"Yes."  She smiled at him.  "Oh!  Yes, er, they're this way.  Follow me."_

_"I should introduce myself," he began, but she interrupted._

_"Yes, I know!  You're friends with--"_

_And here it was.  He knew what she was going to say, what they always said: You're friends with James Potter, aren't you?  Not that he really resented the popularity he had acquired; Remus didn't want to be popular--he didn't like being in the limelight.  But it would be nice, just once, to be recognized as himself._

_"You're friends with Sirius Black, aren't you?  Lupin, is that right?"_

_He blinked at her, startled.  "Yes.  Yes!  Remus Lupin.  Gryffindor.  Glad to meet you."_

_"Oh, I'm Rain.  Katraina McGonagall.  Ravenclaw."  She smiled shyly over her shoulder at him._

_He smiled back.  "I know who you are.  You're in my Ancient Runes class, aren't you?"_

_"Yes.  Only I've just noticed--it's a bit odd, isn't it?  I'm only a third year, but you just said you were fourth year."_

_"Er, well--they let me switch."  He grinned sheepishly.  "I started out in Divinations."_

_She laughed.  "Oh, Lord, Professor Trelawney!  I spoke with her when I was trying to decide which classes to take, and she told me I was hopelessly mundane.  So are you enjoying Ancient Runes?"_

_"Oh, yes, I find them fascinating.  You know, to think that people were communicating a long time before even Latin and Greek."_

_Her face lit up.  "I know!  It's really interesting!  So, have you taken Latin or Greek, then?"_

_"Well, yes, actually--"  He blushed.  "I'm quite good at Latin, but Greek gives me a bit of a problem."_

_"Oh, I'm top student in Greek.  I could help you with that."_

_"Would you?  That'd be really nice of you.  I'd have to think of something to make it up to you."_

_She laughed.  "I'm sure you could think of something.  Besides, I'd like it.  It's nice to meet someone else who's enthusiastic about languages.  Most people in my house are good at them, I suppose, but in my year, no one else is interested in the classics."_

_Remus reminded himself to take a breath.  She was even more breathtaking when she talked.  Part of that, he suspected, was the whirlwind pace at which she walked and talked.  It took a lot of energy to keep up with her.  But then, what good were silly, shy, retiring girls who didn't have a brain in their silly, fluffy heads?_

_The librarian was waiting at the end of the stacks, a severe look on her face.  "What's all this racket?  Miss McGonagall, I would have expected a better example from you," she said severely._

_Instantly the Ravenclaw girl looked contrite.  "I'm sorry, Madam Pince.  It won't happen again."  But her eyes twinkled at Remus from behind her glasses._

_The librarian sniffed.  "See that it doesn't."  She bustled back to her office and watched them with a gimlet eye for some time._

_Stifling a giggle, Rain deposited her books at the check-out desk, then beckoned Remus to a section of shelves.  "Here you are: werewolves, case studies, lycanthropy research, the search for a cure, laws concerning werewolves."  She turned to grin at him, and he was delighted by the hint of mischief in her eyes--green eyes, a lovely glowing green.  He felt himself blush.  "I'll leave you to it, then," she said.  "I expect I'll see you again soon, Socrates in hand."_

_"Absolutely," he replied, a bit too fervently, and she disappeared into the stacks, leaving a soft peal of laughter floating in her wake._

~*~

Rain pulled out her lecture notes for her next lesson as the fifth year Gryffindors began filing into the classroom.  Hermione smiled at her and sat in the front row.  Ron rolled his eyes and sat down behind her, but he grinned cheekily at Rain.  Harry came in a few moments later, looking preoccupied, and sat down next to Hermione.

When everyone was seated, Rain stood up and drew a circle in the air with her wand.  "Vide Vocaro."  _Show as I speak_.

Immediately the room went dim.  Students stirred in their seats, and Rain stood up to walk slowly between the desks.  Now to create a word pictures that, thanks to the spell, would form in their minds, showing what Voldemort's world was truly like.

"Imagine," she said, her voice low, "that you are enjoying your summer holidays.  You've been down to the local pub for dinner with your friends, and you've had a brilliant time."  As she spoke, she knew, each student experienced it in his or her mind.  "It's getting late, nearly curfew, and you're on your way home.  It's dark.  No one is on your path except you.  Bushes are rustling in a faint breeze, the moon is three-quarters full over your head.  As you walk, you are humming your favourite song, looking forward to the cheery lights of home.

"You round the last bend, and that's when you see it.  In the starry night sky over your house, shines a lurid green skull with a snake in its maw--the Dark Mark."

Somewhere in the classroom, someone whimpered.  Rain shuddered in sympathy, remembering the one time she'd seen it herself.

"You begin to run, heart pounding, hands shaking, a cold dread in your heart telling you what you will find.  You hesitate when you reach the door, but by then of course the Death Eaters are long gone.  You burst into your house and find your family, all murdered.  All curse killed.  You are the only one left.

"All because you sneered at a threat you were certain didn't concern you."

She paused for a long time, feeling the fear and sudden understanding in the room.  She whispered, "Finite Incantatem."

It had been effective.  Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown both had wet cheeks; Dean Thomas looked shaken; Seamus clutched his head in his hands; Neville was the one who had whimpered--he was thumping his head against his desk; Ron was gripping Hermione's shoulder; Hermione's hand covered his.  Harry was white and tight-lipped, and his green eyes burned.  He was clutching his desk.

"That is how your parents lived.  It was in that world that my generation came of age."  She paused and looked at each of them in turn, waiting for them to meet her eyes.  "That is the world which you must never allow to rise again."

There was silence in her classroom.  She allowed it to continue, giving them time to think about what they had just experienced.  In a way she regretted having to do that; Harry and Neville certainly didn't need any reminder of what the Dark Lord was capable.  But they _had to know.  These children would be adults soon enough, and the burden of protecting their world would fall largely on them.  They had to understand just what it was they were protecting it against._

She noticed suddenly that Dean's face had gained a new resolve.  A protective expression dawned on Seamus' face as he gazed around at his housemates--yes, he was good prefect material.  Lavender, who had wiped her eyes on her sleeve, was nodding slowly.  Hermione looked up and met Rain's eyes.

"Very well," Rain said, and everyone jumped.  "Your homework was to read about the establishment of Hogwarts.  Let's turn to chapter two in our books and discuss the different roles each of the Founders played..."

After class, the Gryffindors filed out with less laughter and noise than usual.  Last to go were Ron, Hermione, and Harry.  Harry stopped at Rain's desk, paused for a moment with his mouth half-open, then stuff out his hand rather awkwardly.  "Thanks, Professor Rain," he said, as she shook his hand in surprise.  "Just--thanks."  He turned and left quickly, Ron and Hermione on his heels.  As they went, Rain thought she heard Ron say, "You reckon she's a bit mad?" in a heartily admiring tone.

It was the Slytherins, of course, who presented the real trial.  Rain watched them enter the classroom, so very different to the Gryffindors.  These students held their chins differently, and they strutted or sauntered into the room, gazing boredly about them as they dropped gracefully into their seats and waited, arms folded, lips twisted, eyes judging.  In their midst sat their prince, silvery-golden and cool as he gazed expectantly at her.  Rain felt her blood thrill in her veins.  Yes, these students--more even than the Gryffindors--were the real reason she was here.  These students were the ones she prayed desperately that she could reach.  Here was the challenge.

"Imagine that you are enjoying your summer holidays.  You've been down to the local pub, had a bit to drink with your equals.  You've had an entertaining time, made fun of the underage Gryffindors who hadn't cadged a drink, called Potter a prat, compared the season's social maneuvers.  It's late, well past curfew--closer to dawn, really--and you're ready to head home.  It's dark.  No one is on your path except you.  Bushes are rustling in the faint breeze, the moon three-quarters full over your head.  As you walk, you're humming quietly, a bit off-tune with the liquor, and enjoying the warm kiss of air against your face.

"You round the last bend, and that's when you see it.  You gasp.  This can't happen to you; your parents assured you they had made certain it wouldn't happen to you!  You begin to run.  In the starry night sky over your house shines a lurid green skull with a snake in its maw."

Somewhere in the classroom, someone whimpered.  Someone else snickered.  Rain frowned.

"You've seen it before, on your father's arm, on your sister's.  Perhaps you've thought of receiving it yourself.  Think of the glory!  Think of the power!

"You push the front door open, and there is the glory and the power.  Your parents, your older sister, your baby brother, sprawled on the sitting room floor.  The baby is still clasped tight in your mother's cold arms.  Your brother is staring in horror at something you will never see."

Someone gasped and was quickly shushed.

"You turn, rage flaring in your heart.  'No!' you shriek.  'No!  I gave you my word!  I gave you my soul!  Why did you do this?  Why did you take them?'

"With a flutter of wings, the rook settles onto your gatepost.  There is a paper gripped in its beak.  It croaks at you, and the paper flutters towards you.  On the page, in ink the colour of dried blood, a crawling spidery hand has written:

_Now you are all mine_."

She sat back, once again allowing the silence to lengthen before whispering, "Finite Incantatem."  The room had very little light, but her eyes were good in the dark.   She waited.

She didn't recognize all the members of this house, though of course she knew Crabbe and Goyle, and that young lady with long hair the colour of pitch bore a great resemblance to the Zabini who had been sorted to Ravenclaw.  And there, of course, was Draco.  His face betrayed very little.  His eyes were closed, his jaw clenched.  A single lock of silvery blond hair had fallen across his face, making him look younger and more innocent than he was.

Slowly he opened his eyes and fixed them on Rain; they glinted steel hatred at her...yet in their depths she imagined she saw confusion, too.  In another heartbeat, Draco unclenched his hands from his desk, stood, and stalked out of the classroom.  The rest of the class followed suit.

One girl was left.  Blaise, that was her name.  She had risen with the others and now stood hesitantly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.  "I'm sorry, Professor," she said softly.  "But we are Slytherins, after all.  We have solidarity."

And then she, too, was gone.  Rain sat down at her desk and stared out the window.  _Well, she thought, smirking, __now I have a free period._

~*~

Draco felt his pulse pounding as he strode away from History of Magic.  How dare she?  How dare that Ravenclaw wench try to bully the Slytherins?  Particularly after she had rejected her own Slytherin heritage!  Pansy was following him--all of the fifth year Slytherins were, in fact, but Pansy was the only one twittering at him, trying to get his attention.

Finally Draco had had enough.  He stopped and whirled on Pansy, feeling his cloak billow around him.  "Don't you have homework, Parkinson?" he asked, his voice cold.  "If your poor marks count against Slytherin again, you'll be sorry.  There must be something to occupy that vacuous mind of yours."

Pansy gaped at him.  "What?" she said finally.

He smiled nastily and leaned close to her.  "Sod off, Pansy," he hissed.

Flustered, Pansy sputtered for a moment as Draco spun on his heel and stalked away.  Damned silly chit!  Just because she didn't know how to think--  He ground the thought to a halt.  It wasn't his fellow Slytherins who had infuriated him--well, not today, at least.  Today they had all had the sense to follow their prince when he left the class of that Muggle-loving excuse for a professor.

He found himself out at the Quidditch pitch.  "Accio broomstick!" he snarled, and it came shooting into his hand.  He kicked off from the ground, hard, and let the air sweep his hair back from his forehead.  His fury was twisting inside him, making him feel as though he'd eaten a dozen chocolate frogs.  Growling under his breath, he rocketed to the other end of the pitch, knocked two second year Hufflepuffs off their brooms, and laughed as they tried to brush the mud off their robes.  It was petty malevolence, true, but it amused him.

Professor Rain McGonagall.  He scowled again when he pictured her face--lord, she was pretty for such a stupid tart, hard to believe she was related to that hag who taught Transfiguration.  Lucius had spent a great deal of time telling Draco all he knew about the woman--information he had acquired, he said, from Professor Snape.  Draco wondered if what his father had said was true, if Professor Snape truly had been meant to marry her after they left Hogwarts.  Good thing he had come to his sense before he went through with it, though.

Still...Draco reflected on the first class he'd had with the irritating Ravenclaw.  She had looked at him oddly, almost as if she knew him.  And then, when he answered correctly that Salazar Slytherin had been born in a cottage between the Wizarding village of Abergavenny and Offa's Dike, she had not exactly smiled at him--but she had given him a look of approval, such as he had only ever received from Snape.  Lucius rarely looked at his son in approval.

Draco clenched his teeth and dove so rapidly that the wind brought tears to his eyes.  And for that bloody Ravenclaw woman to show up in _his_ vision of Erised!  Damn her!  He would tell his father to target her first.

Only they already had, he remembered as he levelled out and shot towards the opposite goal.  After all, how else had she ended up in the hospital wing?  And there had been the owl from his father, telling him to look for her that night.  Someone had attacked her, and his father had certainly had knowledge of the event.  He thought of the way she'd looked in the hospital wing; with the bandage over her eyes, she was still almost regal, and she still seemed to see into him.  _She should have been one of us_, he thought.

And, inexplicably, he was furious again.  He didn't know who he blamed or even why he was so angry, but he was full of a raging turmoil of wrath.  He veered away from the pitch and headed for the Forbidden Forest.

~*~


	8. High Stakes

**Chapter Eight – High Stakes**

_"Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;_

_And in the lowest deep a lower deep_

_Still threatening to devour me opens wide_

_To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven."_

_-- __Milton__, __Paradise__ Lost_

It was with deep chagrin that Severus answered the Headmaster's summons on Friday afternoon.  He was still unsure what to do about Pettigrew, and had hoped he could consider the situation a little longer before reporting it to Dumbledore.  He had brewed the protection potions, and had sent them via owl to Pettigrew, with a terse note outlining the main effects of the potions, and promising more if Pettigrew didn't annoy him too much.  Perhaps threatening Voldemort's right-hand rat hadn't been particularly prudent, but Severus had a feeling Pettigrew wouldn't be reporting it to the Dark Lord anytime soon.

Severus muttered the password ("Sugarquill") and let the moving staircase carry him towards Dumbledore's office.  When he reached the door, he knocked and strode in without waiting for an answer.  To his astonishment and fury, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were already there with the headmaster.  Severus stopped dead, glaring daggers at Black.  For his part, the fugitive had clenched his fists and fairly trembled with hatred.

"So the murderer has returned," Severus said, biting off each word.

"Ah, and the slimy traitorous git is still teaching," Black returned, his cheeks flushing with anger.

"Padfoot," Lupin murmured, putting a hand on Black's elbow.  The other man shook it off impatiently.

"That is enough," Dumbledore said quietly, rising.  His expression was mild, but his eyes flashed stern command.  Severus bit his tongue until he tasted blood, but he subsided.

Dumbledore waved his wand to summon chairs for his guests, then sat down behind his desk once more.  "I do not understand why we must go over this repeatedly.  Severus, Sirius, you were both very young, and ruled by youthful passions.  That is no excuse now.  The past twenty years have wrought changes in all of us; one suppose it may be too much to hope it has brought either of you wisdom, but maturity, at least, is expected."

Severus glanced at Lupin, who sighed.  It was almost a sound of regret.  Black's eyes still smouldered rebelliously, but as he gazed at the headmaster, he slowly lowered his head and nodded.  Severus looked back at Dumbledore, who raised his eyebrows.  Clenching his teeth--_Think of Rain; do this for Rain_--he stood and walked across to Black, extending his hand.  Black stared at it for a moment, then stared up at him, and gripped his hand.  When Severus sat down, he found the headmaster's speculative gaze upon him.  Severus grimaced at him, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for a moment.

"Remus," the headmaster said, "please tell us what you've done this week."

Lupin nodded.  "I set up wards around Rain's office, and reinforced the personal defenses I gave her--before."

Black shifted.  "How is she?" he asked gruffly.

"Cautiously optimistic," Lupin replied.  "She has promised to be careful.  She's returned to her teaching, which has been going well, I believe."

"She is already causing confusion among the students of my house," Severus volunteered.  "Prince Draco has been sulking since Tuesday.  He has become positively churlish."  He surprised himself by snickering.

Black stared at him.  "Coming fro--" he began, and cut himself off when Lupin kicked him.

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling.  "And you, Severus?  What have you learned?"

He drew in a deep breath.  "It was Pettigrew who sent the curse.  As I suspected.  He asked me to protect him from his old friends."  He sneered at the Marauders out of habit.  Black swore and half-stood.  Lupin stared at the fire, a muscle in his jaw twitching.  Severus would have enjoyed their reactions more if he didn't feel essentially the same.  That the rat could have dared attack someone so silvery, so luminous, as Katraina--he closed his eyes briefly and let the anger pass.

"I have already had a small measure of revenge against him," he said, smirking.  "The Ironskin Potion does indeed grant temporary physical invulnerability, but it becomes a painful experience, and must be renewed daily.  Each successive dose is less effective than the last.  He won't enjoy that potion."  He fancied Black and Lupin were more cheered by this news than Dumbledore.  "Of course, Pettigrew always was abysmal at Potions--worse, I hazard, than even Longbottom.

"The information has been harder to trace.  I am still not certain who told Pettigrew about Katraina's…weakness."  He was not going to name it in front of Black.  Snape fancied he had seen Rain's feelings for Lupin before she had even realized her interest in Black was waning; if Rain hadn't told Lupin, Black certainly wouldn't know.

"As if we would ever believe you had nothing to do with it," Black snarled, angry again, and for a moment Severus actually thought the man would break their uneasy truce and hit him.

"Be quiet, you stupid man," Severus snapped, glaring at him.  "Of course I have had to divulge information about her, about all of you.  It is my only way of protecting he--this school."  He clenched his teeth and cursed himself silently for the slip.

Black was fairly dancing in his seat, his face red.  Remus placed a hand on his shoulder, his knuckles white with the strength of his grip.  Neither of them seemed to have heard the mistake.  Dumbledore had.  His face was grave; but a twinkle in behinds the spectacles betrayed his amusement.  Severus drew in a deep breath through his nose, trying to calm himself.  He hated being laughed at, even privately.

"Are you mad?" Black said, his voice tense.  "To go back in there time after time?  One of these days they're going to recognize you for the treacherous snake that you are, and then that'll be it for you.  Oh, wait--"  He laughed shortly.  "I forgot, they're all treacherous snakes, aren't they?  Everyone knows Slytherin can be pronounced Death Eater."

"Contrary to your uninformed opinions," Severus said through gritted teeth, "there are just as many Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors, among the Death Eaters.  Oh yes, Gryffindors--I would have thought you'd have _personal_ knowledge of that, Black."  He curled his lip.  "After all, it does take a certain amount of courage to face the Dark Lord's tests of loyalty."

"You _are mad!" Black growled._

Severus had had enough.  "I am not mad!" he snarled, coming to his feet and clenching his fists.  "I would to heaven I were!  For then 'tis like I should forget myself!"

The three men stared at him, and he flushed, realizing he had said too much.  Black looked taken aback, and there was a new light of understanding in Lupin's eyes that made Severus cringe.  He snarled and turned back to his seat.

"Sirius," the headmaster said gently, "I knew when I sent Severus back into that Devil's Snare of Death Eaters, that his safety could only be assured if I allowed him to pass along information.  He walks a very thin blade's edge, spying for us while pretending to spy for them."  He took a deep breath.  "It weighs very heavily on my conscience.  If you wish to blame someone for Rain's injury, blame me."

Sirius shook his head, but Dumbledore said firmly, "Do not blame Severus.  He is not happy about betraying his friend.  He does what he must to protect us, Rain, and himself."

Sulkily, Black looked down at his clenched fists.  "Have you heard from Arthur Weasley?"

"I expect word from him this week.  His son Bill has been in touch with Remus."

Severus looked at Lupin in surprise.  So he was doing more than simply moon over Rain?  Lupin saw the surprise in his glance and nodded wryly at him.

"Bill and I are meeting tomorrow evening to discuss some information he has.  He is in a secure location, but is coming out briefly to help us."

Dumbledore rose.  "Be careful, all of you.  Let me know at once if anything untoward occurs.  Sirius, if you'll wait a moment--"

Severus found himself going down the staircase with Lupin, who was blessedly silent.  When they reached the bottom, Severus turned to go back to his dungeons, but Lupin put out a hand.

"She doesn't blame you," he said quietly.  "I thought--well, if she doesn't blame you, I don't reckon I have the right to blame you, either."

Normally it would have made Severus angry.  If questioned, he wouldn't be able to say why today it was different.  He stared at the werewolf, unable to tell what expression he showed.  After a moment he closed his mouth, nodded curtly, and left.

~*~

Remus sighed and sat back on his heels, surveying his work.  He'd finished strengthening the wards about Rain's window seat; now only Arcanus and owls whom Rain invited in would be able to enter.  He didn't think Peter would be brave enough to try again, and Rain would certainly be more cautious of packages in the future...but better safe than sorry.

He was lingering there, hoping she would stop in here before going to dinner.  Dumbledore had summoned him, and with the wording of the note, Remus knew what it was about.  He was being sent to Wales.  At their meeting the night before, Bill Weasley had told him of a prominent werewolf there, Huw Pritchard, who had been agitating for werewolf rights.  Dumbledore wanted Remus to approach him and win him to the Order before Voldemort could steal him.  Remus wanted to say goodbye to Rain before he went.

Her footsteps, when his ears picked out their approach, were accompanied by another person, who walked lightly--a student.  He let himself out into the office just as the door opened.  Colin Creevey followed Rain into the room, a smile on his face.  When he saw Remus, he faltered slightly.  Rain, however, simply smiled at him.

"Remus, have you finished the wards?"

He smiled vaguely in return.  "I was just waiting for you to inspect them."

"Excuse us for just a moment, Colin," she said, following Remus back into her room.  She closed the door behind her and put her arms around his neck.  'This child is driving me ma-a-ad," she whispered, kissing him quickly.

He snickered.  "He has a tendency to do that," he said.  "Look, we haven't but a minute.  I need to say goodbye for a few days.  The headmaster has an errand for me.  Be careful, Rain.  Don't leave the castle unless you're with Dumbledore or Minerva.  Or Severus," he added after a moment, because he could be mature, dammit.

She smiled wryly at him, as if she knew what he was thinking.  "I promise," she said, and kissed him again, more slowly.

"If you keep that up, I won't be able to make myself leave," he said when they parted.  He shook his head and pulled her into a tight embrace.  "Oh, I don't want to leave you at all, Rainy Day," he whispered.  "_Please be careful."_

She gave a tiny laugh.  "You're the one who needs to be careful."  She pulled away and tilted her head.  "I love you, Remus.  You had better come back to me."

He caught her hand in his and held it to her heart.  "You know I will.  I've loved you as long as I've known you."

She coloured prettily and he grinned at her.  Opening the door, he raised his voice.  "Well, if the wards are satisfactory, Rain, I'll leave you to it.  Be well."

She followed him back out, to where Colin was sitting in a chair kicking his feet idly.  "Quite satisfactory, thank you, Remus.  I'll see you later."

He let himself out as she turned her attention back to Colin.  It tore at his heart to leave her at all; he had wasted too much time already for him to be comfortable spending more time away from her.  But he had told Dumbledore he would serve in an capacity, and he could not refuse the old man.  With dragging feet, he made his way to the headmaster's office.

Sirius was waiting there, which was a welcome surprise.  He was pacing, unaware that he was watched.  Remus winced as Sirius took six paces, turned, took eight paces, turned again, and took six more paces.  He had never said, but Remus suspected they were the dimensions of his cell in Azkaban.  When Sirius turned again, he saw Remus.  The shadows on his face vanished and he came towards him, smiling.

"Moony, I heard the most interesting thing from Harry this afternoon.  You'll never guess."

Remus smiled in resignation.  "What is it?"

Sirius shrugged playfully.  "Oh, not much of anything, really.  Never mind."

"No you don't," Remus said, grinning.  "Out with it, Padfoot, before I hit you with a Tantum Calceus!"

Sirius shook his head.  "Nah, it's not actually that interesting.  Forget it."

Remus pushed up his sleeves and advanced, scowling theatrically.  Sirius held up his hands in mock surrender.  "All right, all right!  Harry just asked me if you and Rain had ever been, you know, more than friends."  He smirked.  "When I said I couldn't tell him, he asked if she and I had ever."  He waggled an eyebrow.

Remus wasn't altogether surprised, though he suspected the more perceptive Hermione had put the idea in Harry's head.  "And…?"

Sirius was still leering.  "You know me.  Can't resist a good boast."

Remus rolled his eyes.  "Honestly, Padfoot, she's a teacher!"

Sirius chuckled.  "Don't be such a prat, Moony.  I didn't tell him anything.  Said I'd kissed her a couple of times, and so had you, and P--well, a couple of other friends."  His face darkened momentarily, but then he laughed.  "I also seized the opportunity to tell him he shouldn't lose any more time with that feisty Weasley girl."  He buffed his nails on his robe.  "I _may_ have let on that I was a bit more regretful over Rain than I am, mind you.  Gather ye rosebuds and all that."

Remus shook his head, laughing.  "You are incorrigible."

"I just hope he takes my advice to heart.  Ginny Weasley worships him--well, all those Weasleys do, really--and he couldn't do much better."

"Do you regret Rain?" Remus asked impulsively.  Then he flinched, not sure he wanted the answer.

Sirius didn't answer for a long moment.  He gazed thoughtfully at Fawkes, watching a tiny flame lick its way down a wing.  Finally he said, "Well, sure, yeah, a little.  I mean, any man she'd loved would have to be daft not to.  I mean, even that barmy git's lost to her--was he really meant to marry her?  Bloody odd, that--so I reckon I regret her some.  Fine thing that is, eh?"  He flickered a grin at Remus, who tried a weak laugh.

"Then, do you want me to--to step aside?" he asked, feeling sick.  He didn't think he'd be able to, even for Sirius--the man he'd willingly die for.  "She loved you first."

Sirius looked at him in amusement.  "You dolt," he said fondly.  "You've always been so angry at me for ignoring Rain--lord, that time you punched me over the Leaver's Ball!"  He laughed.  "Dear, silly ass.  Did you never realize that I couldn't do anything about her, because I knew you were in love with her?"  
  


Remus blinked.  "You knew--"

"Hopeless.  Absolutely dizzy," Sirius said implacably.  He shrugged.  "Who didn't know, that's the real question.  Lily did.  James--well, perhaps James didn't notice.  Peter knew.  She was so kind to him--bloody bastard!"  He clenched his fists for a moment, then forced himself to relax.  "What killed me was how she always chummed about with Snape.  She was so bloody smart, couldn't she see what a git he was?  Him and all that Pureblood horseshit he spouted."

"Rain's a Pureblood," Remus said mildly.  "And you're no mongrel, either."

Sirius' gaze turned fierce.  "That's right, and look at us, Moony.  You're the best of all of us, faithful and brilliant.  And you're the one with a Muggle granddad."

Remus smiled.  Sirius could be a stubborn prat sometimes, but he was fiercely loyal; he always had been.  Remus still found it unbelievable that he could ever have thought Sirius a traitor.  "I had a good role model," he said.  "Albus taught me everything I know of faithfulness and brilliance."

"What embarrassing timing," said a quiet, amused voice from the doorway.  Remus and Sirius turned to watch the headmaster stride into the center of the room.  He moved with a speed and agility that belied his age; yet Remus saw lines of care on the old man's face.

"I apologize for keeping you," Dumbledore said.  "I had some unfinished business which took longer than I had expected."  He conjured three chairs into a triangle, and took one of them himself.  "Gentlemen, I will attempt to be brief.  Remus, you know about Huw Pritchard; some of this information comes from Severus, and some of it from my liaison with the Pendragons.  Dem fine woman, tall thing with lots of red hair; makes a very fine Japanese tea ceremony, too."

Remus coughed quietly and Dumbledore beamed at him.  "Quite right, Remus.  I'm getting off-topic.  Well, Pritchard is a key figure in Wizarding Wales, or the whole United Kingdom for that matter.  He's been agitating for Being status, and Severus says Voldemort's eye is finally turning towards him.  You _must not_ allow him to join the enemy."

"Is Sirius coming with me?" Remus asked.  "Only werewolves can be quite territorial, with those who aren't--erm, pack."  He felt a small throb begin at his temples.  He had never liked talking about his kind, and now he was doubly uncomfortable; he felt as if he were somehow selling out his own.  But his side was Dumbledore's, and if he wanted to two parts of him--wizard and wolf--to ever be at peace, he knew he had to try to draw the two sides together.

"No, no," Albus said, beaming.  "No, my boy, Sirius is here because of a very good idea--mine, in fact.  I know you will be uncomfortable, leaving Rain here alone--as am I--so I arranged for Sirius to come and keep an eye on her.  He looks like quite a Scottish dog, after all.  I believe the creature was pining for its mistress."  He chuckled and glanced at Sirius, who whined and made not-quite-literal puppy dog eyes at Remus.

"Harry and his friends--" Remus began.

"Already knew about the plan," Sirius said.  "That ba--erm, Potions Master, knows me, too, though."

"I did not forget," Dumbledore said, looking reprovingly at Sirius.  "He had some choice words on the matter, but he agreed to go along with it.  Though he wished me to convey the message that he will not follow a black dog anywhere."  There was a tiny sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

Remus nodded.  "I'd better get going if I'm to catch the night train.  Padfoot, tell Rain she may take you out for walks."

Sirius growled at him, making him laugh, then surprised him by pulling him into a rough embrace.  "Be careful, Moony," he said in a slightly suspect voice.  "It's getting dark out there.

Remus knew he didn't mean the sunset.

~*~

Severus fought the urge to sneer the first time he saw Rain with Black trailing at her heels.  Oh, what he wouldn't have given to have seen that years ago, when Black had belittled Rain's love--belittled it, a thing so precious as that, when Severus would have given the world for it!  But Rain had taught Severus not to be entirely selfish, and even though he hated Black, if that prat's love would have made Rain happy, Severus would have accepted it.

He didn't fight the urge too violently.  "What a lovely mutt you have there, Katraina," he sneered.

She frowned slightly at him.  "But he--oh, of course."  Her brow cleared.  "Come now, Severus," she said lightly, falling in beside him and slipping a hand onto his arm.  "Be kind.  Even strays need a home."

He grimaced but did not pull away.  He allowed few people the familiarity of touching him, but his heart trembled when her fingers rested on the sleeve of his robe.  _Damn you, he thought, __it is far easier to hate everyone._

"I thought you might join me for dinner," she suggested, her voice blithe.  "And then, perhaps, would you play chess with me?  I very much miss it, when Remus is away."

She sought his company.  He knew he should refuse, knew he couldn't let her get any closer to him.  Yet…she and Remus had not been together all this time, as he had always supposed.  She obviously had no feelings for Black, whom she led around like a real hound.  She had asked Severus to join her.

The black dog growled warningly and before Severus could stop himself, he heard his voice say, "It would be my very great pleasure."

She smiled dazzlingly at him, and he thought his heart paused for a moment.  At that exact moment the Dark Mark, in its place under her fingers, began to burn.  He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from wincing.  Taking a deep breath, he said slowly, "I am afraid I will only have time for one game, however.  I have--business this night."

Instantly she looked concerned--concerned for him, damn her!--and said, "Oh, Severus, I'm sorry!  Would it be better if--"

He waved his free hand in a graceful gesture of denial.  "One game," he repeated.  "Are you on your way to dinner now?"

"Yes.  I was going to sneak some scraps to Snuffles under the table."

Snuffles.  He stared in total astonishment at the dog.  For a moment Black hung his head, tail drooping.  Then his brown eyes met Severus' and the dog lifted his head, growling again.

"I…see," Severus said finally.  They walked towards the Great Hall in silence.  Through the burning of the Dark Mark, Severus was conscious that he felt almost at ease.  When they reached the door, however, he tensed.  Now Rain would drop his arm, pretend they were not walking in together--but for once he had underestimated her.  If anything, the presence of her hand became more commanding.  He swept into the room and she floated in on his arm, regal and self-possessed.

He was aware of a certain sense of awe in him, reverence for the great lady she had become, worship for the companionship and grace she offered to him, respect for her teaching skills and deft handling of his Slytherins.  _She should have been one of us,_ he thought.

They were not immediately noticed, so they had the grace to reach the head table before murmurs from the students reached a louder pitch.  Severus felt himself blushing--lord, blushing! At his age!--and scowled at the Slytherin table.  They, at least, were quelled by him.  The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were another matter.  Potter met his gaze with hostility and challenge that was so reminiscent of James that Severus caught his breath.  "Little prig," he muttered.

Rain shot him an amused glance as he pulled out her chair for her.  She settled serenely into it, calmly ignoring the student reaction.  As Severus moved to sit next to her, he felt a tug at his hem.  The black dog was gripping his robe firmly in its teeth.  Severus said quietly, "If you don't call off your dog, I'll slip a Thawing Potion into his food."

She actually laughed.  "Heel, Snuffles," she said.  "And don't rip his robes.  The cut is too dashing."  She glanced at Severus with a smirk.  "Well, I'm glad to see you remember something from Muggle Studies.  Only it's antifreeze, Severus; I doubt a Thawing Potion would do much to him."

He grimaced at her, and she smiled pleasantly back.  He sat down to eat his supper, ignoring the pain in his arm.

It only took him thirty minutes to checkmate her king, but her playing had been sloppy and he knew it.  He fought the impulse to say something cutting.  Instead, when she tipped her king with a sigh, he frowned.  "You shouldn't worry so much about him.  He's going among his own kind, after all.  You're distracting yourself."

She flushed and looked down.  "I'm that transparent, am I?"

"To me," he said before thinking.  Then it was his turn to look away.  He stood up and swept his robes around him.  "I must go.  If I am back by tomorrow night, I am at your service, should you care to play a better game than tonight's."  He turned.

"Severus."  He stopped but didn't look back.  When her hand touched his arm, just over the Mark, he twitched.  "It's Him, isn't it?" she said in a low voice.  When he didn't respond she came to stand in front of him.  Staring up into his eyes, she touched his cheek gently.  "Be careful."

Not trusting himself to reply, he nodded once, curtly, then brushed past her to the door.  He heard the black dog bark once before the door closed behind him.

~*~

Sirius bounded to his feet as soon as Severus was gone.  "What the bloody hell was that for?" he demanded.

Rain sighed and put her hands to her temples.  "Please, Sirius, hasn't this day been hard enough?"

He ignored this.  "I have tried to accept that there's something inside that slimy git that you like, even though I can't for the life of me see what.  But this is too far, Rainstorm, too far!"

"Too far" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Sirius had apparently forgotten the warning signs of her temper--then again, he wasn't accustomed to having it directed at him.  He paced eight steps and then six, then spun to face her.  "I mean, Godric's beard, Rain, you're practically engaged to Remus!"

Practically engaged?  She settled a cool gaze on him.  "That will be enough, Sirius."  He stared at her in chagrin.  She continued.  "I do not know--I have never known--what you and James had against Severus.  I don't know, nor do I care, what poison you spread against him with others.  What I do know is that Severus is as brilliant as any of you, in his own way, and that he is _now your ally.  Everyone must stand together and work together, Sirius, or we will fall together."  Sirius hung his head, looking like nothing so much as a scolded dog, but Rain wasn't finished._

"If you can't do it for yourself, do it for your godson.  Harry has enough he has to deal with, especially after what happened last year.  Severus does tend to punish him for his father, but you don't have to."  She sighed.  "You know I love you, Sirius, but Severus is my friend, too, and I cannot continually be punished for it.  Severus, at least, does not take me to task for my choice of friends."

She rubbed at her eyes.  "Oh, I am so tired, Sirius," she said, annoyed by the plaintive note in her voice.  "And I am worried for him."  To her horror, she felt tears well up in her eyes.

Wordlessly Sirius bowed to her, without a trace of irony.  When he straightened, he saw her tears and pulled her close in a hug.  "I'm sorry, Rainstorm.  I'm being a git myself, aren't I?  All right, I'll quit hagging you about him.  And don't worry about Remus; he'll be fine."  He hesitated, then said slowly, "Do you want Padfoot tonight, Rain?  Remus said I'm to keep an eye on you; I could sleep by your hearth."

Gratitude flooded her and she nodded against his chest.    She felt so much safer now than she had a mere four months ago, even if someone was trying to hurt her.  At Heatherhall she had a staff.  Here she had a family.  She relaxed into Sirius' embrace and he held her more tightly.  His arms were muscular but too thin, and she thought again that he needed someone to watch over him.

"Sirius, what happened to you and Jules?" she said.  An instant too late she remembered--he'd been thrown into Azkaban.

Sirius stiffened and moved away.  "What brought that up?" he asked, an edge to his voice.

It was too late to change the subject.  "I just worry about you, that's all.  You're not eating enough."

"Just like a woman," he said, relaxing fractionally.  "Thinks every man needs someone to take care of him."

"God knows you haven't the sense to do it yourselves," she teased.

He shrugged and moved restlessly about the room.  "I got sent to Azkaban, Jules got married, end of story.  I quite like that Stanton chap; he's a good enough fellow."  He ran one hand down his face and sighed.  "Ah, I wouldn't have married Jules, anyway; we were both having a bit of fun, that's all.  She knew it and I knew it.  I'll tell you who I still wonder about," he said, turning suddenly and looking at her with confidence.  "It's Silverthorne I still wonder about."

Ah.  There was a sticky subject.  Esme's old friend, Slytherin Prefect Silverthorne.  Rain nodded.  "Mmm."

"Whatever became of Cress, do you know?"

Rain turned and began straightening papers on her desk.  "Mm-hmm."

"What?"  He came closer to peer at her.  "Well, Rainy Day?  Where is she?"  At her hesitation he said, "She's not--"

"Dead?  No," she replied reluctantly.  She sighed.  "All right, Sirius, she cursed your name and threw her inheritance to her brother and moved to America.  I don't hear much from her these days."

"Ah."  He turned away, sticking his hands in his pocket and blinking at a painting on her wall, of Heatherhall Manor.  As the silence stretched uncomfortably, he put his head to one side and began to hum.  After a few minutes he turned and smiled at her.  It seemed a sharp smile, to cut himself on.  "Well, Cress was never the forgive and forget type, was she?  I know I'm not as good as Remus, but d'you fancy a game of chess with me before bed?"  
  


He didn't fool her.  But she knew he'd not say another thing about it.  She really ought to be grading those essays on the important events in early Hogwarts history.  But she knew a game of chess, whether he won or lost, would cheer him.  So she agreed.

Later, when she was in bed, listening to the black dog's whuffling snores from the banked hearth, she thought of the emptiness life must present in Azkaban, the horrible price those thirteen years must have exacted from his soul.  And she resolved to write a letter to Cressida Silverthorne very soon.

~*~

Thank whatever mercy God saved for him, he didn't have to go to Voldemort right away this time.  When he could finally walk down past Hogsmeade and Apparate to the Riddle house, the Dark Lord was closeted with Nagini and a mysterious visitor.  Pettigrew gestured patronizingly with his silver hand and spared Severus a smile.

"The Dark Lord is occupied at the moment, Severus.  But Lucius, Angus, and I have been playing a quick game of poker while we wait.  Perhaps you'll join us.  If the stakes aren't too high for you," he added slyly.

Severus grimaced at him.  "Pleased to," he said shortly.  "I've dealt in higher stakes than you'll ever see, Pettigrew."

The rat's face grew thoughtful for a moment, the smile slipping.  "No, I don't think you have, Severus," he said softly.  As Severus blinked, he switched back to jovial.  "Don't worry.  It's knut-ante tonight.  This way."  He ushered him into the small drawing room, where the others were already seated about a table.

Lucius raised an eyebrow.  "Ah, Severus deigns to join us, for a change."

Severus nodded archly at him.  "I would have thought you of all people would understand my situation, Lucius.  It can't be easy to drop everything at the Ministry and Disapparate.  Surely someone even in that group of blind fools would have to see the connection, sooner or later."  He swept his robes out of the way and sat down across from Lucius.  MacNair dealt him in with barely a flickered glance at him.

A pair of jacks.  Not terrible.  They made faces at him as he watched Peter ante up and take his cards.  The rat grimaced slightly, surprising Severus; he'd always been a better poker player than chess.  There were times Peter had even managed to outbluff him.

Lucius took two cards, and Severus was forced to revise his strategy as MacNair took two as well.  Usually when one played poker with Lucius Malfoy, it was five-card stud.  Why had he switched to draw?  Severus took three cards, keeping only the jacks.  When he looked at the cards, two queens winked bawdily at him from behind a ten.  Ah, so these were MacNair's cards.  He clenched his teeth for no reason and met Lucius' gaze.

"What news from Hogwarts, Severus?" Lucius asked, his voice casual.  "I understand Peter's curse on that History of Magic professor wasn't quite as effective as could have been hoped."

Peter sucked in a breath, and without looking at him, Severus said, "Was it Peter?  I wondered.  I'll see your bet and raise you a knut."

Lucius raised another three knuts without bothering to glance at his cards.  "You mean you didn't know ahead of time?  Dear me, Severus, did you displease the Master?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Severus said dryly.

MacNair folded.  Severus called and looked on impassively as Lucius turned over a full house, aces high.  Lucius looked at Severus' two pair without changing his expression, but when Peter showed them a royal flush, Lucius gritted his teeth and glared.  Severus allowed himself to chuckle, earning another glare from Lucius and a startled expression from Peter.

"It's refreshing to see someone get the better of you, Lucius," Severus remarked, leaning back in his chair.  "Particularly someone like Peter."  Peter collected his winning and anted up, then gathered the cards and began to shuffle them expertly.  "One thing you should remember," Severus added as Lucius continued to glower at him, "Peter's always had an excellent poker face; he needed one, with his situation."  He tipped an imaginary hat in Peter's direction, and the little rat's mouth dropped open.

Lucius was eyeing him speculatively.  "You never did answer my question, Snape," he said.  His voice was deceptively light, belying the hawk's piercing gaze he fixed on Severus.

Severus raised his eyebrows.  "Nothing of real importance has happened at Hogwarts recently, Lucius.  I was forced to sit through a meeting with Black and the werewolf, but the old fool won't tell me where Black hides when he's not strutting around the headmaster's office."  Mentally he apologized to Dumbledore for the 'old fool'.

"Mm.  And Lady McGonagall wasn't involved?"

"You don't know?  She wasn't.  I thought you would have Draco watching her."  Severus took two cards and bit his tongue as the Jack mooned him.  Definitely MacNair's deck.

"Draco is...strangely silent on the topic of the new professor.  Though he has plenty to say about the werewolf."  Lucius flashed a smile that was too full of teeth for Severus' comfort.  "I understand Lupin is rather taken with the silly chit.  And that you have been seen talking with both of them."

"I think if you ask, you'll find I've been seen talking with McGonagall and Sprout, too," Severus said, skating a thin line between sarcasm and contempt.  "I am a professor, as are they."  He raised the bet.

"Let us hope you have not suddenly begun having qualms about your allegiances," Lucius said, and raised.

"On that you need have no fear," Severus said, raising again.  Peter and MacNair folded.

"You know how the Dark Lord would hate to lose such a valuable resource within Hogwarts," Lucius said, adding a sickle to the pot.

"Indeed."  Severus raised again.

With a look of faint disgust, Lucius called and turned over two pair, queens high.

"Bluffing, Lucius?" Severus said archly as he laid down his straight flush.

The look Lucius gave him was pure unadulterated hatred.  He opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment Voldemort's high cold voice summoned them to his side.  Peter and MacNair jumped to obey, but Lucius and Severus both had images to uphold.  They stood more slowly and walked towards Voldemort's study.  As they reached the door, Lucius gripped Severus' elbow tightly enough to cut off the blood flow.

"Don't think I can't see through you, Severus," he hissed, and his eyes were icy.  "You were seen in Hogsmeade with Katraina McGonagall, and you didn't look like you were trying to get information from her.  Hogsmeade visit or no, it isn't wise to be seen getting so cozy with Dumbledore's cadre."  His grip tightened.  "_Love hath made thee a tame snake."_

Severus jerked his arm out of Lucius' grip and matched him stare for stare for a long moment.  Then he strode in to attend their master.

~*~


	9. Slytherin Customs

**Chapter Nine - Slytherin Customs**

_ "We in A.A. believe there is no such thing as a cure for alcoholism. We can never return to normal drinking, and our ability to stay away from alcohol depends on maintaining our physical, mental, and spiritual health."_

_-- Alcoholics Anonymous webpage_

_"Sometimes the Devil is a gentleman."_

_-- Shelley, "Peter Bell the Third"_

The week moved with agonizing slowness for Rain.  Severus returned in a foul mood the day after he was called, but he kept his word and sat up late into the night with Rain, playing wizard's chess with a ruthlessness that suggested he was trying to exorcise some of his own demons, as well as hers.  After three games, two of which Severus won, she sighed and looked up at him.

"Would you like some tea?"

His lips thinned for a moment, and he looked up at her.  "Thank you."  Those words always sounded strange coming from him, but she didn't dare laugh.  With a flick of her wand, she reheated the pot she had brewed much earlier in the evening.  She busied herself in pouring for both of them and adding honey and lemon to her own tea.  She knew he drank his plain.

He accepted his cup wordlessly and stared into the golden-brown liquid as if it held answers he believed didn't exist.  Rain studied him for a long while, sipping her tea.  His eyes were so shadowed as to appear bruised, and the lines around his mouth and eyes were deeply graven.  She thought he looked thinner than usual, too.  Finally she said, "Whatever it is, you know you can tell me."

He lifted his head slightly, as if she'd startled him.  "Believe me when I say you don't want to know."

"It doesn't matter," she replied.  "If you need to tell me--someone--I'll listen.  That's what friends are for."

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, and she saw then how exhausted he was.  "I think if I tell you, these things will…become real…in a way they haven't yet, to me.  Seeing it through your eyes…"  He stopped speaking and hunched his shoulders; his knuckles turned white as he gripped the cup.

Rain stared at him.  Could her opinion truly matter that much?  "You know I would never pass judgment on you, Severus."

"Does that matter?" he snapped.  "You wouldn't understand."  He stood up and drained his cup.  "I'll see you tomorrow."

Troubled, she watched as he let himself out and shut the door hard behind him.

The next day he looked slightly embarrassed as he sat at the head table for breakfast.  He ignored her except to glance briefly in her direction when Professor Sprout commented on Remus' unusually long absence.

"It isn't that time of the month yet, old girl?" she asked Rain, who gaped at her for a moment before comprehension dawned.  Rain laughed before she could help herself, and Sprout flushed a faint pink as she, too, began to chortle.  "Oh, dear me, that isn't what I meant!" she exclaimed helplessly.  "Oh, lord!  Oh my!  Stop it!" she commanded Rain, who struggled vainly to quit laughing.

Hagrid, seated on Rain's other side, leaned over.  "Are yeh all righ', Rain?"

This only made Rain laugh harder, so she nodded and patted his arm briefly.  With tremendous effort, she finally controlled her mirth and wiped her eyes.  Willing her mouth to stay in a straight line, she glanced at Sprout and said quickly, "The full moon is next week."

Sprout, who was leaning over, wiped her eyes and nodded.  "That's what I thought.  The Diananox Flowers haven't bloomed yet this month."  She sighed.  "Oh, goodness, Rain, that was the best laugh I've had in ages.  It's getting bad.  I never thought I'd see the day when we were losing teachers to the fight against Voldemort."

Rain's heart clenched briefly, even though she _knew_ Sprout meant losing time, not lives.  She forced herself to keep a calm face, though, as she said, "I know what you mean.  But who would have ever expected Voldemort to return?"

"I knew he'd be back," Hagrid said, surprising both of them.  "Always knew it.  Wasn' enough human left in him to die, I reckon.  And what was left of 'im was too nasty to let go.  S'long as there was people willin' to do his work, he'd always be able to come back."

Rain sighed.  Hagrid always had been smarter than he let people think.  Just then the bell rang, and the Great Hall was filled with the sound of silverware clattering and students talking.  She looked at them, so bright, so eager, so unafraid of what the future held for them, and she hoped that the day would never come when they began losing students to the fight.

The remainder of the week dragged into the weekend, and Severus was called once more to Voldemort's side.  Rain was sitting in the staff lounge with him, marking essays in a companionable silence, when the quill dropped from his hand and he reached to cover something on his forearm.  She met his eyes and saw the grief and resignation lurking in them.  She nodded slightly at him, and touched his fingers for a moment.  Then he pushed his chair back and strode out of the room.

Very early Monday morning, before most of the school was awake, Severus turned up at breakfast, looking haggard and angry.  All day Rain looked for opportunities to speak with him, but she never even caught a glimpse of him in the hallways, and she hadn't time to go down to the dungeons; she had a class every period on Mondays.  That evening, Rain received an invitation to dine in the headmaster's study, and to bring her dog with her.

Dumbledore, looking very grave indeed, waited until Rain, Minerva, Sirius (in his proper form), Hagrid, and Severus, were seated.  Then, raising his hands in a gesture of benison, he conjured their meal.  When they were well into the first course, he explained why he had brought them together.

"You all know that Hagrid has been negotiating with the giants to bring them to our side against Voldemort.  They have agreed to a temporary neutrality while they deliberate.  Bill Weasley was, before his disappearance, assisting his father in making alliances within the Ministry.  "  He folded his hands together and looked at them all.  "Fleur Delacour has made some overtures to the veela on our behalf."

"Little hope there," Sirius muttered.

"Perhaps," said Dumbledore.  "Nevertheless we cannot discount anyone, as we all have cause to know.  The main reason I am outlining our efforts is to put into perspective what I have to say next."  He paused and glanced at Severus, who nodded slightly.  "The man who contacted us on behalf of the Welsh werewolves--a low-ranking man in the pack structure, we were led to believe--appeared before Voldemort two nights ago.  He claimed they had an important leader in the resistance, and that, if Voldemort could afford it, he was his."

_Remus_, Rain tried to say.  But although her mouth opened, no sound came out.  Quite suddenly she felt very dizzy; she braced a hand against the table and blinked hard.

"Severus--"  Dumbledore said, but he broke off, and suddenly hands were steadying and supporting her.

"Take deep breaths," Severus said softly, and pressed a goblet into her hand.  She gulped the water and obeyed him, and after a moment the black spots left her vision.  She blinked at him and the concern on his face faded back to frustration.  He returned to his seat.

"There is more," Dumbledore said.  "Severus?"  
  


Severus didn't look at Rain as he said, "Voldemort allowed the man to believe they had a bargain.  When the man left to retrieve the captive, Voldemort had him followed.  The Death Eaters hit the safe location the werewolves were using.  I was with them, and kept watch, but there was no sign of our werewolf."

"A likely story," Sirius muttered.  Severus' eyes flashed.

"Do you call me a liar?"

Sirius glared at him for an instant, then met Rain's eyes and shifted in his seat.  "Not in this matter," he admitted finally.  It sounded like a grudging concession; Severus nodded in formal acceptance.

"Lupin is missing, though I can safely say Voldemort does not have him.  I do not think the werewolves will be stupid enough to try bargaining with Voldemort again."

"I would feel better in someone had heard from him," Minerva said, glancing at Rain.

Rain shook her head dully.  "Don't look at me."

"I think it most likely that Pritchard's men devised this trap to uncover Voldemort's faithfulness," the headmaster interjected.  "There is an excellent chance that the ruse was Remus' idea; he has a marvelous mind."  Dumbledore beamed at them all for a moment, but to Rain it seemed forced.  "I am sure there is nothing to be concerned about.  Remus is probably safe and making strides towards an alliance with Pritchard."

Rain wished she believed it.  As she left the meeting some time later, having hardly touched the rest of her meal, her thoughts were spinning.  Ignoring Sirius' concern, she went past her rooms, shooing her dog in without her.  She needed comfort, and with Remus gone, and Severus still closeted with Dumbledore, there was only one place to find it.

~*~

"What do you mean where's Rain?" Black growled.  For all that they were safely in Rain's office and Black had resumed his human form to answer his question, Severus could practically see the dog's hackles raising.  He frowned.  Black continued, "She went off with you to the Three Broomsticks two hours ago!  How the hell did you manage to lose her?"

Severus blinked at him, not understanding.  Then all the pieces clicked together.  "You idiot!" he snapped.  "Why would you let her go to a tavern?"

"She can make her own decisions, you slimy git!" Black shot back.

"Not when it comes to this," Severus hissed.  "I have to find her."

"Find her for what?  For pity's sake, man!  If you had any mercy in you, you'd give her some peace."

"Peace only comes to the dead," Severus retorted, "and not always to those.  Stop wasting my time.  Stay here in case Katraina returns on her own.  If she's drunk, induce sickness.  Is there room enough in that tiny mind for you to remember that?  And send for me at once."  He gathered his robes about her in preparation to go.  Black's voice halted him.

"Where are _you going?"_

"To find her, Black," Severus said, and he left.

Though he was reasonably certain he wouldn't find her on the school grounds, Severus did check the kitchens and the library before hurrying to Hogsmeade.  As he strode towards the village, he was fuming.

Had he not told her to avoid alcohol while taking the Sangrapura Potion?  Had he and Lupin not told her to stay inside the school unless accompanied by someone safe?  Had she not promised she would never again dismiss his warnings?  And yet that bloody Ravenclaw chit had once again decided she knew best.  _Damn her!  She was a thorn in his side, and his love for her was a very real liability._

This was the perfect opportunity, Lucius would say, to rid themselves of the problem that was Katraina McGonagall.  Let the woman drink herself literally to death--a very agonizing death which, although not necessary, would certainly entertain Lucius.  By hoping to save Rain, Severus was being decidedly unSlytherin.  Or perhaps, he mused as he passed Honeydukes, he wasn't acting unSlytherinish at all.  His real ambition was to be able to love her, to have her love him in return, to make that acceptable.  That could hardly come about if she were dead.  Yes, it might be unDeath Eaterish, but it was certainly Slytherinish to want her to live.

He pushed open the door to the Three Broomsticks and scanned the room.  He did not immediately see anyone he recognized, Death Eater or otherwise.  A second look found Rain, sitting by herself at a corner table, hunched into her cloak and staring fixedly at a tankard in front of her.  Rosmerta, he noticed, had a subtle watch on Rain; when she saw Severus enter, she relaxed and motioned him over.

"What's she drinking?" he asked by way of greeting.

"Ogden's Old Firewhisky," Rosmerta whispered.

"How much?"

"A tankard and a half, so far."

"God have mercy!" he exclaimed, and hurried to Rain's corner.

She blinked up at him in confusion.  "S--Sev?" she asked, and blinked again.

Damn it.  "You little fool!" he spat.

Her eyes filled with tears.  "Don't be angry with me, Sev," she pleaded.  "I just--I couldn't--I needed comfort."

"And you couldn't come to one of your friends?"  He knew he shouldn't say it, and yet the words fell from his mouth without his permission.  "What in God's name were you thinking?"

"I--I wasn't," she admitted.  A strange look flitted across her face.  He recognized it as that of a person who has just realized how phenomenally stupid she is being.  "Oh dear," she said, and put a hand to her head.

He pulled her to her feet and dragged her to the door.  "You have ignored my every word since you and I met," he said, letting his exasperation creep into his voice.  He managed to get her out of the village before she uttered a low groan and slithered out of his grasp to drop to her knees on the ground.

He felt like snapping at her, but instead he gripped her shoulders as she was sick.  When she finished she said, "Sev--I'm sorry."

"You should be," he snapped, and wiped her mouth with a clean handkerchief.  "Come.  We can't stay here unless you want everyone to know about this."  He hauled her, not ungently, to her feet, and supported most of her weight as she took half a dozen steps.  She groaned again.  "Stop that, you bloody Ravenclaw twit," he murmured.  "Whinging about it won't help, so why don't you keep quiet?"

"S--sorry," she muttered.  He noticed she was trembling violently.  He held her up with one arm and with the other removed his cloak and settled it awkwardly about her shoulders.  "Thanks," she whispered.

He shook his head and propelled her another twenty meters up the path.  With very little warning she lurched out of his arms, fell over, and was sick again.  She made no more complaints, but as he pulled her upright and wiped her mouth again, he saw the tracks of silent tears on her face.  He chose to ignore them.

She was shivering more violently now, and her teeth were chattering.  When he put a hand under her chin to look at her, he saw blood dribbling down her chin.  At his alarmed utterance she made an effort to focus her eyes on his face.  "B-bit my t-tongue."

"You need to hurry, Katraina.  We need to get to my office."

She only looked at him, but he read her confusion.  As he explained, he felt a shudder run through her body.  "I told you the Sangrapura would do horrible things when mixed with alcohol.  Considering that you had practically no supper, and you drank that much Ogden's Old Firewhisky, I expect it shall run through you quickly.  Or, at least, it shall begin quickly."

She shuddered again, and this time he could tell it was unintentional.  He bit back a curse.  "Can't you walk any faster?" he snapped.

"Sorry…I'm sorry, Sev."

"If you were truly sorry, you wouldn't call me that," he muttered, and was surprised to hear her gasp a small laugh.

"Sorry," she whispered, and broke into a fit of coughing.  When she had finished, she clung dizzily to his neck, and after a moment buried her face in his shoulder.  He was ashamed to feel himself respond.

"This is ridiculous."  He bent and lifted her into his arms; she hardly seemed to weigh anything, and he prayed desperately that her foolishness would not kill her.  A part of his mind whispered that Mobilicorpus would be easier, but he ignored it.

By the time he got her to his office, she was drenched in sweat and still shivering.  She had managed to not be sick inside the school, but as soon as he had set her down on a low settee, he had to fetch an empty cauldron for her.  This time, after she was done, there was far too much blood for her to explain away.  She merely stared at him miserably as he swore and went to mix something he hoped would help.

Severus had never been skilled as a nursemaid; he hadn't the temperament for it.  Even with Rain he had never possessed heroic patience, and there was no other invalid he would ever have bothered with.  Yet now, as Rain heaved every fifteen or twenty minutes, pathetically uncomplaining, he was moved by a strange tenderness.  The bitter undercurrent was still there, of course, that she had gone out to get drunk over Lupin; but she was vulnerable, and a wondrous protectiveness flared up in him.  When her tangled curls were in danger of falling in the cauldron, he smoothed them back from her face and placed one thin hand on her shoulder.  When she shivered violently after another dose of antidote, he tucked the blankets more closely about her.

Through it all, though, he was still afraid.  He had become used to fear.  It was a constant companion to a Death Eater, and as close as a lover to a traitor.  He rarely feared for himself, though--he wasn't worth fear; his fear was usually for Dumbledore and his supporters.  Now he feared for himself nearly as much as he feared for Rain.  _Please, whatever skill I have, he prayed, but could not finish.  He had just administered another dose of his improvised antidote potion, and she had fallen back too heavily on the settee,  coughing with consuming urgency.  He had been with her nearly three hours, and she was getting worse instead of better.  He sat down on a straight-backed chair beside her and put his hand over his eyes._

She suppressed her coughs.  "Severus?" she whispered.  He lifted his head from his hand.  "Is this it, then?" she asked.  Her eyes glittered strangely, but there were no tears there.  The fever, perhaps.

"You are not going to die, you foolish girl!" he snapped, anger once more superceding fear.  He glared at her.  "I thought you were going to listen to me."

She considered this.  Her face was pale and sweaty, and tendrils of her hair clung to her skin.  Suddenly she seemed so frail, so young.  "I did say so, didn't I?"

He grimaced and stood, but she suddenly sat up, too quickly, and nearly fell off the settee in her haste to reach the cauldron.  Severus wondered, as he caught and steadied her, if he would ever have the stomach to use that cauldron again.  Perhaps he would give it to Longbottom.  He sat gingerly on the settee next to her, holding her up.

Rain heaved much longer than usual this time, and although it was liberally sprinkled with blood, it seemed to him there couldn't be much more alcohol left in her stomach.  When she was finished, she rested her forearms on the rim of the cauldron and placed her forehead against her hands.  As she gasped weakly for breath, she sat up straight again, so that for a moment she was leaning against his chest.  She rolled her head slightly so that she was nestled under his chin.  "I wish you'd tell me you love me, Severus," she murmured, her voice raspy.

He went hot, then cold, and before he could even begin to frame a response, she had leaned over the cauldron again.

There was nothing he could say.  Of course he loved her.  But he was a spy and a former Death Eater, and he had nothing to offer her but sorrow and danger.  Once, long ago, while both their fathers lived, he had dreamed of a much different life.  But now?  Now it was much too late.

At that moment he heard a snuffling noise, and then the creak of hinges.  He realized that in his haste to get her settled, he must have left the door unlatched.  Who had been and gone in the past three hours?  Had anyone else seen?  He turned his head slightly and, from the corner of his eye, caught sight of the large black dog.  It stood in the doorway, head low, watching.  It watched as Severus wiped her mouth and offered her a sip of water.  It watched as she lay back weakly against the pillow and swallowed a large dose of the antidote.  It watched as Severus smoothed her hair back from her forehead and checked her temperature, and tucked the blankets around her again.  And at least, after watching all this, it looked straight into Severus' eyes, then turned and walked away.

When Severus turned back to her, she was watching him.  Her eyes were only half-open, but she was breathing more evenly, and her colour had improved somewhat.  He leaned over and took her hand.  "Feeling better?"  She smiled.  "You're going to have the devil of a head tomorrow."

She rolled her head slowly from side to side.  "I'm glad you never decided to really poison me."

He raised his eyebrows.  "If I had been trying to poison you, Katraina, you would have died painlessly within thirty seconds.  Saving you was considerably more difficult, especially with your apparent deathwish."

Her eyes darkened for a moment.  "No," she said, "not anymore."  Her voice was hoarse.  He reached with his free hand for a glass of water, and gave her a sip.  Her hand came up to steady the glass, and his fingers burned at the momentary contact.

"Your life has been...difficult," he managed at last.

"You might say that."  She took a deep breath and held it for a moment.  "But nothing next to yours, I imagine.  I didn't realize--"  She bit her lip, and he half-rose in alarm.

"Are you--"

She cut him off with a weak laugh.  "No, sit down, Severus.  I'm feeling much better.  I just--"  She sighed.  "I thought better of my words."

Severus nodded, understanding.  "You thought I had only spied on them.  You didn't know I had truly been one of them."

She looked sadly up at him.  "Please tell me I didn't somehow send you down the path to Voldemort."

He wanted to tell her she had, wished he could blame his betrayal on her, but he knew better, and he would not lie to her.  He did not, however, harbour any qualms about sarcasm directed at her.  "Don't flatter yourself.  I would not have become what I did out of disappointment.  Not even over you."  Oops...even?

"Disappointment," she said softly, but her eyelids were drooping her.  Feeling incongruous relief, he stood up and went to a shelf.

"Here," he said, unstopping a bottle and handing it to her.  "You need rest.  It's a potion for dreamless sleep."

"Thank you," she said, looking up at him.  "Thank you so much."

He smiled wryly at her.  "Just wait until you get my bill."

She laughed out loud.  "Severus!  A joke?  I'm impressed."  She drained the bottle quickly and handed it back to her.  "Stay with me?"

He sighed and tried to look as if he begrudged her the time.  "You know I will."

As she slipped into sleep, he watched the candle's light dance across her pale face.  So many struggles, for all of them--yes, even for Lupin, perhaps even for Black.  The more suffering Severus saw, the more he understood the importance of grace.  She had enough for all of them--enough to forgive Lupin for leaving her, enough to forgive herself for her mistakes, enough to forgive Severus for all the horrors he had committed, enough even to forgive Black for being such a prat.  Severus had always been wont to see Dumbledore as his saviour, but it was easy to look at Rain and see an angel of grace.

He whispered, quoting, "If it were now to die/'Twere now to be most happy, for I fear/My soul hath her content so absolute/That not another comfort, like to this/Succeeds in unknown fate."

~*~

When Remus woke, he was shivering with cold.  He blinked at the uneven ceiling, which was about two feet above his head; in the grey light it was hard to discern what it was made of.  He lifted a paw--no, a hand--gingerly and discovered by scraping his knuckles that it was stone.  That's right, he was sleeping in a cave.  A cave full of werewolves.  In Wales.  Where it had been raining non-stop for the past three days.  He sighed and edged out of the little niche in which he'd been curled.

He had been filled with a slow-burning anger upon seeing the conditions in which Welsh werewolves were living.  They couldn't find jobs anywhere except in the mines, where they were sent into the deepest, newest shafts, before any of the human miners would enter.  Since Wales was a country dependent upon its sheep, werewolves were required to shut themselves up in cages during the full moon--cages with silver bars.  Remus had been the only one last night besides Alpha Huw Pritchard who didn't burn himself by jumping against the bars.

Pritchard was crouched at the fire, warming his twisted hands.  Remus went over and sat on his heels beside him.  He had been surprised, when he met Pritchard, to see that the Alpha Wolf of the Brecon Pack--and leader of PAW (Persons Advocating Werewolves)--was an arthritic man in his early sixties.  That alone proved werewolves were more than just animals, for a true pack of wolves would have ousted a crippled leader long since.  He sighed, and Pritchard looked over at him.

"Doesn't relieve all the aches and pains, does it?" he asked in his quiet voice.  "Or am I just feeling my age?"

Remus grimaced.  "No, I feel them, too.  It helps with the mind, not the body."

"Still," Pritchard said, with awe in his voice.  "_Mens sana in corpore sano," he said after a moment, and shook his head.  "I never thought it could be."_

"Dumbledore's Potions Master is a highly skilled man," Remus replied.

Pritchard looked sharply at him.  "And this is what we may look forward to, if we join you?"

Remus held his gaze.  "You know better," he said mildly.  "You may have it, whether you join us or not.  The headmaster is not such a man as would promise a gift and then withhold it."

"And what of those you decide to accept Lord Malfoy's offer?" Pritchard asked blandly.

Remus held back a snort.  "Malfoy's no lord," he said.  "What he is, is a pureblood wizard.  He has no respect for Muggleborns or Squibs; what makes any of you think he'll look more kindly on folk who don't even qualify as beings?"

Pritchard's lined face split in a grin.  "And don't you know I was only winding you up, lad!"  He chucked and held out a battered tin cup of tea.  "Think that's the first time I've seen you crack, this whole week.  Go on, now.  You know I'm with you.  It's some of the younger dogs that need persuading."

"Voldemort's attack on Ffordd-y-Glo should have told them something," Remus said.

The man nodded thoughtfully.  "Aye, and it did.  They can see Voldemort's not one to trifle with--some of them are thinking he's not one to cross, either.  But there are plenty of them want to stay out of it altogether.  Knowing they don't have to join you to get the Wolfsbane Potion will leave them with no incentive."

"They can't think the headmaster--or anyone--seeks to control them," Remus replied.  "If they join us, they have to join on their own terms, of their free will, not ours.  I won't have it said that one side's no better than the other.  To Voldemort you would be servants.  To us you would be partners."

"It sounds very pretty," said a cynical voice behind him.  Garaid Jones was a good-looking werewolf just past school age, and he was bitter that he hadn't been allowed a real education.  All the same, he was earnest in his desire to help other werewolves attain what he had not.  Remus liked him.

"Not when you think of what we're asking," Remus replied.  "Give up your safety, your homes, perhaps even your lives, to preserve a world that has been unkind to you, all in the hopes that if you help save it, you may be allowed to help shape it.  Asking you to take a stand against the strongest and most insidious evil of our time.  Asking you to risk everything for possibly nothing in return."

Garaid grinned.  "You trying to talk me out of this, or into it?  Best shut up now, old dog, before I change my mind."  He put out his hand and Remus shook it.  "I'm in.  Now we just have to convince the others."  Remus stared at him.  "Ah, quit that!  You knew I'd do it.  You notice more than you let on.  I imagine you had the measure of us before Huw even suggested we use you as bait for Voldemort."

Remus thought of the towering fear under which he had struggled, shivering in the wet and cold of Ffordd-y-Glo, waiting for the signal to come that the Death Eaters were on their way.  Garaid had volunteered to go with Remus--or Llan, as he had introduced himself to them--and show him the secret ways out of the set of caverns that had served as the old den of the Brecon Pack.  Slowly he nodded.  "I didn't think twice about trusting you with my life," he said pointedly to Garaid and Huw.  "Some of the others seem a bit more shifty, though."

"Some are," Garaid acknowledged.  "Some of them probably still think it'd be a safer bet to join with Voldemort.  Better to serve the side that wins than to lead the one that loses, you know.  But perhaps that's not an idea you had to live with, yourself."

Remus studied him.  He didn't seem bitter, just curious, so Remus shrugged.  "I'm familiar with the temptation, I suppose.  I admit I've had a much easier life than any of you here."

"I expect it was hard enough," Huw said, surprising him.  "Well, then.  Garaid and I can give you a few ideas on who the key people are here; the pack's gotten much bigger than it used to be, with PAW becoming more vocal.  We're more like a loose-knit clan of packs, really.  Then once you've talked to them, they'll need time to think it over.  I suggest you make some rounds today, and then head back home tonight.  No point in keeping you here; the talks could take weeks."

Remus nodded slowly.  He had been hoping for a swifter solution, but he hadn't really expected it.  He was lucky he had Huw and Garaid on his side already.  "Dumbledore authorised me to invite a select number back to Hogsmeade for a visit, during the new moon.  I'd like you both to be part of the group."

Garaid grinned.  "What, me visit a real Wizarding village?  Wouldn't know what to do with myself."  He shook his head.  "Does sound like fun."

"Think about it," Remus urged.

Garaid nodded, then finished off his tea.  "We'd best get to work so you can persuade a few more to join the group."  He stood up.  "We have loads of work to do."

For the first time Remus felt as if he'd actually done something for the resistance; it only made it sweeter that he'd also done something, however small, for the werewolves.  He thought of his parents, their long search for some way to cure his lycanthropy, and thought they would be proud of him.  He wished they had truly known Rain; they had met her once or twice at King's Cross, but they had died within a few months of each other during the years of his self-imposed exile.  It was easier to see, looking back, that he'd wasted those years foolishly, but he still wasn't certain what else he could have done.

Given his choice, he would have married Rain and spent those years making her happy--but after losing James and Lilly, he'd lost his faith in storybook love.  A penniless werewolf marry the Clan Lady--he knew what people would think.  For himself it didn't matter; people could say whatever they liked, he knew the truth.  But to have it said of Rain, that her husband was only after her money, that no one else would have her--that was unthinkable.

And now?  What made it right for him to hope now for her hand in marriage?  Well, they were at war, weren't they?  War changed everything.  In this world, you had to seize happiness with both hands and hold on for all you were worth.  And she loved him, and she clearly had not been happy that he was gone; and he himself had been miserable.  Together they would create whatever happiness could be found in this mad world.

~*~

Rain did, as Severus had warned her, have the devil of a head when she woke up.  She was still on Severus' settee, with several blankets tucked about her.  There was a tray on the table next to her, with a teapot, cup, biscuits, a potion bottle, and a note.  She smiled, looking at it.  When she reached out and picked up the note, however, her smile faltered and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Oh, Severus," she whispered, and took a shaky breath.  Hidden by the note was a single red rose, still closed tightly.  She took another breath, blinked hard, and read the note.

"I'll take your first class for you.  Dumbledore will arrange the rest.  Drink the potion first; it should help with the headache.  Do not get up before you have drunk all of the tea.  S."

She felt too weak to get up, anyway.  She swallowed the bitter potion and poured a cup of tea with hands that shook.  With a sigh, she settled into the cushions and contemplated the rose.  _Well.  I did ask him to say he loves me._

She fell asleep again after draining her cup, and she dreamed she was standing between two masked Death Eaters.  A cold voice behind them said, "Crucio," and the Death Eater on her left began to convulse.  In the distance she clearly heard a dog barking.

Rain awoke with a start.  She lay perfectly still for a long moment, holding her breath.  Then she sat up.  She was alone.  She gasped a few breaths while waiting for her vision to clear.  When her heart began returning to a more normal beat, she poured herself another cup of tea; it was still hot, and she spared a grateful thought for Severus' Semprecalidus Spell.

She reached over and touched the rose lightly.  The petals were beginning to open, and they quivered under her caress.  She realized she was smiling, and sighed.

What was she to do with Severus?  She blushed as she again remembered her words of the night before:  _I wish you'd tell me you love me, Severus._  She couldn't pretend it was just the whisky talking; she knew better, and there could be no doubt he would, too.  And he had said nothing.  Perhaps he didn't love her, after all.

No, she couldn't be that bad at reading him.  _Why had she been so foolish?  It had been an unkind thing to say, and more than that, it had been unwise.  Dumbledore had asked her to be careful with Severus, and she had gone and said something to hurt and alienate him._

_Alienate?_ said a sly voice in her mind._  Then why did he leave you that rose?_

"Oh, shut up," she said crossly.  It was perhaps one of the hazards of living alone for so many years; she had begun talking to herself.  She looked about restlessly.  Severus had ordered her not to get up until she'd finished the pot of tea, but her back ached, and she wanted something to take her mind off her current situation--both that of having fallen off the wagon after twelve years, and that of having encouraged Severus to speak.  Cautiously she stood up and tottered over to the nearest bookshelf.

Enthroned on the top of the bookshelf was an ancient phonograph, and Rain glanced at the record currently residing there.  She grinned when she made out the title; it was an old favourite from their school days, Gordon Lightfoot's "If You Could Read My Mind".  Gordon Lightfoot's music, as well as Bob Dylan's and Joni Mitchell's, had provided a soundtrack to the exploits of the Marauders, the early years after leaving school, and her drinking years.  She sighed.  This album in particular had been her favourite.  She lifted the arm and placed it carefully on the record, watching it spin, until she began to feel slightly dizzy.  Humming along, she looked at the books on the shelves below.

_Most Potente Potions, One Hundred and One Cures for Lost Poisons, The Rise and Fall of Grindelwald, The Collected Works of Keats, Virgin's Blood and Dragon's Tongue, Tess of the D'Urbervilles, Othello, King John, Hamlet, Paradise Lost, M._  Her fingers brushed over the spine of each book as she read its title, Muggle literature scattered in among Wizarding volumes.  She paused at the last, a green leather-bound volume with the single letter M stamped upon the spine in silver.  She recognized the book, but it took her a moment to remember from where; her father had had a copy in his library.  Curious, she selected that and the Keats and carried them back to the couch, wobbling slightly.

With a sigh, she sat down and pulled the covers back over her.  She nibbled at a biscuit as she opened the Keats.  She flipped through it for a few minutes, reading bits here and there, until it fell open to a sonnet that was marked in green ink:

_Darkling, I listen; and, for many a time_

_I have been half in love with easeful Death,_

_Called him soft names in many a mus`ed rhyme,_

_To take into the air my quiet breath;_

_Now more than ever seems it rich to die,_

_To cease upon the __midnight__ with no pain,_

_While thou are pouring forth thy soul abroad_

_In such an ecstasy._

She snapped the book shut.  That was much too personal; she had forgotten how much could be revealed in the poetry one read.  Laying the Keats aside, she took an absent-minded sip of tea and opened the green book.

The first page said, in a bold script, _Livre de Memoire, Fergus McGonagall, Lord Heatherhall._  Rain nearly dropped the book in her surprise.  Narrowing her eyes, she studied the cover once more, until she found the scratch where she'd knocked it from her father's desk twenty-five years ago.  This was her father's lifebook, his Book of Memories.  But how had Severus come to have it?  Had it been among the things her father had left to Asmodean Snape?

The first entry was dated 18 July 1940 -- his birthday.  She flipped to the last page, which was dated the day before he died.  Hastily she backtracked, not wanting to read the last entry; she opened it at random, and, seeing a familiar name, paused to read:

  


**_31 July 1973_****__**

_Asmodean Snape and I spoke today about his son.  Severus is nearly ready to leave school, and he is a fine young man.  He takes top marks in his lessons, is a decent Quidditch player, and is not lacking in ambition.  I have it from Esme that Severus and Rain get on well.  I am afraid of what Mairie would say of this; she was a Gryffindor, and never understood all the old Slytherin customs.  But Asmodean considers it a favourable alliance, and I believe Esme will approve my plan.  I only hope that my little Raincloud will understand.  I want to see her well-provided-for, taken care of; I hope that she would be treasured.  From what Asmodean said, Severus would provide all that and more._

As she reached the end of the passage, she heard a sound from the doorway and looked up.  Severus was standing very still, his eyes fixed on the book in her hands.  His face was pale, his mouth slightly open as if he had been about to speak.  As she watched, his eyes grew cold.

"Severus, I--"

"I thought I instructed you to not get up," he said, his voice growing softer until it became a hiss.  "I provided you with refreshment and entertainment--"  Oops, entertainment?  She glanced around and only then saw a thin volume by her tray--  "and still you felt the need to disregard my request.  Instead you decided to snoop through my belongings."

She had been feeling guilty, but at this she bristled.  "_Your_ belongings?  This book was my father's."

"And he entrusted it to _my _father."  Severus bit off the words.  He strode across the room and plucked the book out of her unresisting hands.  Rain did not think it was possible for him to become paler, but as he gazed at the entry she had been reading, more colour drained from his face.  He snapped the book shut and stood staring down at the cover as if it were a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

"It's too late," she said, amazed at how calm she sounded.  "I saw what was in there."

His eyes grew colder still.  She saw a muscle twitch in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.  After a very long moment he said, "And what, precisely, is in there?"

"Our betrothal.  An agreement between my father and yours.  You know about this, didn't you?"

He didn't answer.

"He never asked me.  Never even told me.  Were you planning to abide by it?"

He didn't answer.  He only stared at her, implacable as granite.

"And why, precisely, did you keep this a secret?  Why then, when it could have meant something?  Why now, when I've come back?"

He put his hands behind his back and blinked at her.  Rain felt her face heat.  "Why didn't you bloody tell me?" she cried.  "Were you ashamed?  Were you jealous?  That must be it--you're jealous because now I have Remus and you have no one!"

Oh dear.  That had been a mistake.  The ice in his eyes vanished and his face twisted in fury.  "_If I were jealous, Katraina, I would have handled it much differently!" he spat.  "Besides, I have no reason to be jealous.  **_If_ I wanted you, I could have you."  He thrust a parchment at her, old and wrinkled and a little worn about the edges.  "**__If I wanted you.  You, Katraina, you belong to me."_

It was the agreement, drawn up, witnessed, and signed by his parents, her father and sister, and Severus himself.  She ran a wondering finger down the page.  "It's quite correct," she said softly.  She took a deep breath.  "_Why did you never tell me?"_

"Would you have listened?"

Severus had nearly fled when he realized what she was reading.  The look on her face was strange, a mixture of eagerness and fear.  Dimly his mind registered that she had turned on his phonograph, and Gordon Lightfoot was singing.

"Of course I would have listened!" she exclaimed, sounding indignant.  But she suddenly looked less sure of herself.

Severus pressed a finger to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.  At last he sighed.  "I did not tell you," he said, trying to sound calm and reasonable, "because your father asked me to wait.  The day we signed that--"  He waved at the precious parchment she still held-- "I told him I would like to be the one who spoke to you.  He agreed, thought it was a good idea, even, but put forth the caveat that I must wait until you left school and were old enough to decide."

His heart pounded at his honesty.  This was too much, it was painfully honest, and he knew she was going to rip up the paper, laugh at him.  Instead she looked thoughtful.

"I need to think," she said slowly, her voice soft.  "I need to be alone, and think."

That didn't sound as if she were going to reject him out of hand.  His heart swelled for a single moment, he nearly smiled, then harsh reality hit him.  He was a traitor and a spy, and if he were caught, Voldemort would kill him at the very least.  If she didn't reject him, he would have to do it himself.

"What is there to think about?" he asked, disappointment making his voice harsh.  "You can't think I still want this?"  She stared at him in surprise, and he wondered if she would cry.  Wondered if they both would cry.  "_Please, Katraina.  Show some sense.  I can't be saddled with a __wife."  He laced the word with scorn.  "And if I were to marry, she would be a Slytherin, with ties to as many Death Eaters as possible."_

"But--I thought--"

"You thought it might work?" he interrupted.  He sneered at her.  "Please.  You'd only get in the way.  You're spent too much time with Gryffindors to be of any use to me.  How could you ever imagine we would get on?  You never properly saw me, anyway."

In the silence that followed these words, he heard the phonograph quit playing.  He had altered it many years ago, with a small levitating spell, so that it automatically flipped the record over and began on Side B.  The bittersweet swells of "If You Could Read My Mind" laced through his words, fitting the situation with a delicate irony that could have made him weep, if he hadn't been so angry.

_If you could read my mind, love, what a tale my thoughts could tell_

_Just like an old-time movie 'bout a ghost from a wishing well_

_In a castle dark or a fortress strong with chains upon my feet_

_You know that ghost is me_

_And I won't ever be set free as long as I'm a ghost you can't see._

"Did I ever truly have worth in your eyes, Katraina, or was I just a project, someone to fix up in your spare time?  You kept me locked up in your thoughts, trapped in a skewed reality where I was good and noble and true, when in fact the only good and noble and true thing in my entire life was you--and you were blind."

He heard the scorn dripping from his tongue, saw the way her beautiful, hopeful face crumbled into shock, dismay, and hurt.  Yes, he told himself savagely, you learned long ago how to hurt her.  You still remember.

_If I could read your mind, love, what a tale your thoughts could tell_

_Just like a paperback novel, the kind the drugstores sell_

_When you reached the part where the heartaches come_

_The hero would be me_

_But heroes often fail_

_And you won't read that book again because the ending's just too hard to take_

"If you'll recall, you looked to Sirius Black when you wanted a hero.  Not to me; I was your project.  Remus was a good chum.  Peter was to be pitied, James to be admired, and Lily to be emulated.  But Black was to be worshipped.  Well I ask you, Katraina, what did he do to deserve it?  Nothing.  The only big thing he's ever done was try to kill me.  Rest assured that, Dumbledore and Voldemort--and your sweet ideals--notwithstanding, I will return the favour if ever I get the chance."

_I'd walk away like a movie star who gets burned in a three-way script_

_Enter number two: a movie queen to play the scene_

_of bringing all the good things out in me_

_But for now, love, let's be real_

She shook her head.  "You're not like that, Severus.  You don't want to be."

"Don't you understand, Katraina?  I. Am. Not. Your. Project.  There is nothing left of me to redeem.  I am a selfish bastard who has sold all of you out more than once, and I will do it again if I must.  I have committed acts that would make you weep and curse my name.  I deserve whatever fate is coming to me.  But I'm not why you're here.  Draco is.  And he does not."

She was weeping, quietly, with dignity.  "That's not true.  There is something left."

"And what is that?" he mocked.  "You can't answer me, can you?"

"Love, Severus," she said calmly, and for the first time he faltered.__

_I never thought I could act this way and I've got to say that I just don't get it_

_I don't know where we went wrong but the feeling's gone_

_And I just can't get it back_

No.  He hurt her now to avoid killing her later.  "Love!" he sneered, and barked a laugh that hurt his throat.  "Be real, Katraina!  Did you think I loved you?  I _used_ you.  Used you to learn more about the werewolf and Black.  Used you to throw Lucius and his master off my true intentions.  Make myself look infatuated.  Make them think love had made me a _tame snake"_."  Oh, the bitter echoes of those words.

_If you could read my mind, love, what a tale my thoughts could tell_

_Just like an old-time movie 'bout a ghost from a wishing well_

_In a castle dark or a fortress strong with chains upon my feet_

_But stories always end_

_And if you read between the lines you'll know that I'm just trying to understand_

_The feelings that you lack_

"No, Katraina, the fairytale ends here.  Go back to your safe world, make blind love to your tame werewolf, and go on thinking there is good in the world.  But never think there is anything good left in Severus Snape."

She tried to stand, got her feet tangled in the blankets, and fell to her knees.  She stared at him with tears pouring down her cheeks, a rent deeper than the ocean on her face.  Her entire body trembled, her outstretched hand shook.  "Severus--" she pleaded.  His soul quailed, and for the most horrible moment of his life, something in him screamed to be free of the entrapments he had placed upon himself.

"Go home, brat!" he said viciously, and she recoiled as if she had been struck.  "Weak daughter of a fool, alcoholic clan leader who isn't half the woman her sister was.  _Go home!_"  He spat in her face, and as the spittle trailed down her shattered face, Severus felt the last pieces of his heart crumble into dust.  He watched as she stumbled to her feet, kicked free of the blankets, and ran.

_I never thought I could feel this way and I've got to say that I just don't get it_

_I don't know where we went wrong but the feeling's gone_

_And I just can't get it back_

~*~


	10. Strange Currencies

**Chapter Ten - Strange Currencies**

_Half our standards come from our first masters, and the other half from our first loves._

_- George Santayana_

On his way home, Remus stopped briefly in Abergavenny to catch up with one of Dumbledore's information sources--a woman who, incidentally, was another of Sirius' ex-girlfriends.  Sally was kind enough to feed and shelter him for a night, and midway through dinner, Bill Weasley arrived.

He grinned at the look on Remus' face and said, "You said you were going to be in Wales.  I sent a message to Hogwarts, and discovered that you wouldn't be able to resist a stopover with Sally."  He grinned as she cuffed him lightly on the shoulder, then offered him a cup of coffee.  "Thanks," he said, and drained it at one go.  "What a week!" he said with relish.  "This secret agent life agrees with me."

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest.  "Arabella wanted me to tell you to keep an eye on that Draco Malfoy.  She said he's the most complicated boy she's ever met, and she expects him to fly apart any day now."

Remus frowned.  "How does Arabella know Draco?"

Bill's grin widened.  "Well, that would be the two days he spent with her and Harry in Godric's Hollow.  Not that he remembers it…exactly."  He winked at Sally, who raised an eyebrow and handed him his refilled coffee cup.

"Arabella abducted Draco Malfoy?" Remus said, wondering if he was having auditory hallucinations.  He blinked.

"Er, not exactly," Bill said, and his expression sobered.  "Look, I can't go into it all right now, Remus.  Understand this is a sensitive situation.  But she said it was important for you to get that message.  I gather Rain is supposed to be working on him?"

"Yes.  Much as she did Severus."

"Hm.  Do you trust him?"

"Draco?"

Bill rolled his eyes.  "No, not Draco!  Severus."

Remus sighed, experiencing an extreme feeling of deja vu.  "Yes.  Dumbledore trusts him, and I've no reason to doubt Dumbledore's judgment.  Besides, he and Rain have renewed their friendship, and she trusts him whole-heartedly."

"You've no reason to doubt Dumbledore's judgment," Bill said pensively.  He glanced at Sally, then said, "Remus, Dumbledore allowed a Death Eater access to the Hogwarts students all year last year.  The year before, he nearly got Harry kissed by Dementors.  The year before that--"

"I didn't say he was infallable," Remus protested.  "But certainly on the matter of Severus Snape, I have no doubt that he is truly with us."

Bill nodded.  "All right, you've worked with the man.  I'll take your word on it.  But in the meantime, keep an eye on Malfoy.  Oh, and--"  He pulled a sheaf of parchment out of an inside pocket.  "Take these to Sirius."

"Sirius?"

Bill nodded.  "They'll interest him more than anyone.  And he can share the pertinent information with the other Phoenicians."  He drained his coffee cup again and stood up.  "Well, I'll be off, then.  Got to get back to Godric's Hollow before Mundungus buys illegal dragon's blood on the black market or something.  Thanks, Sally."  With a soft pop, he Disapparated.

Remus and Sally looked at each other for a long minute, before Sally finally grinned and shook her head.  "Well, that's Bill for you.  Want another fillup, Remus?"

"Thank you," he said, relinquishing his cup.  As she poured, he reflected that Sirius' ex-girlfriends should, by rights, hate him and everything to do with him.  As it was, however, most of them were extension members of the Order--willing to do whatever they could to aid Dumbledore.  Sally was no exception.

An almighty crash from upstairs made him jump.  It was followed quickly by a small voice shrieking, "Grimalkin's after my hamster!"  Sally never wavered; she sighed and put the coffee pot back on the warmer.

"Excuse me, Remus.  I'd best stop Grim," she said.  Then she paused and looked at him wryly.  "If Sirius is ever passing this way…"

"I'll tell him to stop by," he said.

Remus was hungry and dirty and hadn't slept for nearly twenty-four hours when he returned to Hogwarts from Wales.  His meeting with Dumbledore lasted until well past midnight.  When he finally reached his rooms, he was surprised to find Harry sitting on the hallway floor, leaning against the wall.  "Harry?  Is something wrong?"

The boy lifted his head from his arms.  His hair was more rumpled than usual, and he blinked sleepily at him.  "Oh, Professor Lupin.  Hermione said she'd seen you.  Hedwig had a message for you."  He pulled out a folded parchment from his pocket and held it out.

"Thank you, Harry."  He took the letter and offered him a hand, but the boy struggled to his feet unaided.  As he turned to go, Remus called after him.  "Harry?  Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?"

Harry turned back, surprise and pleasure mixing on his face.  "Thanks, Professor."

Remus led the way into his office and began fixing tea.  "How have things been going here while I was away?"  
  


"The same," Harry said.  "Ron got hurt in our match against Hufflepuff, but he saved the game."  He grinned as Remus handed him a cup.  "He got an earful from Hermione about it, though."

Remus hid a grin.  "I see.  And how did Ron take that?"

"With a small amount of patience and a lot of eye-rolling and blushing."

Remus chuckled.  "And what about you?  No injuries?"

Harry shook his head.  "I almost lost the game for us.  Got distracted.  It's a good thing Ron was there."

"You two having any trouble learning to work together on the pitch?"

Harry shook his head again, smiling widely.  "He's a really confident player.  I think he makes all of us better."

Remus smiled.  Harry and Ron's relationship reminded him of the friendship between James and Sirius.  In both cases, either friend would gladly give his life for the other.  In both cases, the friendship was more than the sum of the parts.  And in both cases, bringing a woman into that relationship--Lily or Hermione--had only changed the dynamic for the better.

"You should tell him that," Remus advised, sipping at his tea.

Harry nodded slowly.  "Yeah, you're right.  I should.  Thanks, Professor."  He stood up.  "I'd better get to bed."

"You're out past curfew," Remus observed.  "Shall I walk with you to Gryffindor Tower, so you don't get in trouble?"

Harry's grin was full of mischief and delight--James' grin.  "No thanks," he said, and from the pocket of his robe withdrew a slithery silvery garment.  "Only you've probably seen this before."

Remus grinned conspiratorially.  "The number of times I hid under it.  Be careful then, Harry.  Good night."

The letter was from Bill Weasley.  _"Church--  The couple in question did in fact receive their loan.  Gringotts apparently has faith they can make good.  Since faith is your business, I thought you should know.  Horus."_

So Arabella and Mundungus had succeeded in performing their appointed task.  Remus smiled.  What would Lucius Malfoy think if he knew so much effort was being expended on his son?  Doubtless he would assume the Phoenicians wished to use Draco to hurt him.  Malfoy's biggest weakness was his consistent failure to understand Albus Dumbledore.  Dumbledore would never choose to hurt a child.  Quickly Remus took up his quill and scrawled out a reply.

"Horus--  That's good news.  I am sure Flame will send his congratulations, but I will say it on behalf of us both:  very well done indeed.  I hope that during the winter holiday I will be able to call on them.  Church."

As he was sealing the letter, he heard something scratching at his door.  Drawing his wand, he crept to the door and listened to something breathing.  After a moment he heard a soft whine.  He laughed and opened the door.  "So it's you, Snuffles."  He grinned.  "Come on in, boy."

The dog slunk in and Remus closed the door firmly, locking it and putting up a ward against listening.  When he turned around, Sirius was standing there, looking dishevelled and unshaven.  He put his hands in his pocket and frowned at Remus.

"It's about time you got back.  When Snape told us about the raid, we all thought you were dead--or worse."

Remus stared at him.  "I hadn't thought of what you all would think," he said slowly.  "Is Rain--"  
  


"Horrible," Sirius said, his voice sharp.  Then he sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair.  Halfway through, he stopped and began to scratch vigourously.  "She's locked herself in her rooms, ever since Tuesday night.  It's bloody perplexing, Moony."  He began to pace, six--eight--six--eight.  "We got the news Monday, when Snape came back.  After we left the meeting, Rain locked me in her office and took off.  A couple of hours later, Snape showed up, looking for her.  Well, she'd said she was going with him, so that set off alarms."  He stopped pacing and sent Remus an anguished look.  Remus nodded for him to go on.

"A few hours later, when I hadn't heard from him again, I broke the rules and went out looking for her--as Padfoot, of course!  Don't look at me that way, Moony.  I was worried.  I finally found her, in Snape's room.  She was--well, she was rat arsed, is what she was.  Puking into one of his cauldrons.  And Severus--"  He cleared his throat.  "Snape was holding her.  Keeping her hair out of her face, you know, taking care of her.  I--well, it was _weird."_

Sirius dropped into a chair with an air of exhaustion.  "She came back Tuesday, noonish, and she locked me out of her bedroom.  I heard her crying in there, Moony."  He hesitated.  "I transformed back to pound on the door and ask her what was wrong, and she just yelled.  She made me promise not to transform again--I haven't had a bath in three days, Remus," he said plaintively.

Remus stared at him.  Wondering what exactly had happened in his absence.  Obviously, if Rain had broken her own rules and got drunk, it was something bad.  "How is she now?"  
  


"Still quite waspish," Sirius replied.  "She hasn't cried but that once, but she's been in a high temper ever since.  I've taken to slinking behind furniture when she comes in.  But--"  He hesitated again, so long this time that Remus said, "Go on."

"Well, Snape's been taking off more points from the Ravenclaws than he has the Gryffindors.  The Ravenclaws are grumbling that at this rate they'll be negative before Christmas."

Remus frowned.  Rain and Severus had argued?  That was somewhat--unusual.  Well, not unusual for them to argue, but unusual for them to hold a grudge against each other.  "That's strange," he mused.

Sirius nodded emphatically.  "Not that _I'd miss the bloody git, but he did seem to make her smile more than I did, while you were gone.  Plus he's a damn sight better at Wizard's Chess than either you or I.  He can beat her more often than she beats him."_

"Perhaps," Remus said reluctantly, "I should speak with Severus."

Sirius was shaking his head.  "I don't know, Moony.  I--"  He frowned.  "Whatever else the man is guilty of, he loves her.  I--I didn't think it was possible.  Wouldn't have believed Snape had a heart to lose.  But when she was sick--I saw his face, Remus!  The only times I've ever seen a man look at a woman like that was with James and Lily.  It's something I always wanted, and never knew how to have."  He looked at the rug, some shadow creeping back across his face.  He opened his mouth, but said nothing.

Remus' heart was thudding in his chest.  He had known Severus loved her, but had imagined it as a hard, selfish sort of love.  Instead Sirius--Sirius, of all people, who hated Snape!--Sirius was describing the sort of love that valued the other's life above the self's, that would rather die than cause the beloved pain.  He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat.  Finally he shook his head.  "There's something you're not telling me, Padfoot," he said hoarsely.

Sirius' eyes were tortured when he finally looked up.  "I can't, Moony," he whispered.

~ * ~

With a growl of frustration, Rain closed her book and hurled it across the room.  She'd spent the past three days searching Dumbledore's personal chronicles of Voldemort's first rise to power, trying to find evidence of attacks on purebloods.  Dumbledore had given the chronicles to her during the first week of class so she would have more primary source material for her lessons.  She'd skimmed through them, but the beginning of the term had been so overwhelming that she'd sort of forgotten she had them.

Tuesday evening, disgusted with herself for giving in to her addiction, and furious with Snape, she had seized on the chronicles as a means of distracting herself from her personal life and trying to do something for the Order at the same time.  She'd read them thoroughly, poring over the bits that dealt with Dumbledore's interactions with Lucius Malfoy, and wondering why there was no mention of Severus in the chronicles until the last volume, when Dumbledore recorded that Severus had been helping the Order for several months.

Rain had moved on to _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _You-Know-Who but Do You Know Why?_ (which thin volume had proved to be little more than a story worthy of the cover of _The Quibbler_).  There had been virtually nothing in either book regarding attacks on purebloods, and the second book had been so inaccurate it claimed Voldemort was a pureblood himself.  With another growl, Rain slumped back against the wall and scowled out at the sleet that was beating at the windowpane.

"Well, I've never seen you this overset before, not even when Lily hexed your eyebrows off for kissing James under the mistletoe."

Rain jerked bolt upright on the windowseat and glared reproach at her cousin.  "How did you get in?  I told the door to let no one in without a password.  And it wasn't me that kissed him," she added as an afterthought.

"You said nothing about cats," Minerva replied calmly.  "And you know I've always been able to work out your passwords.  And I distinctly remember that you took the blame for Eilonwy Finch's bad behaviour with James."  She folded her arms across her chest and looked severe.  "Now, what on Earth is this about?  I was elected to come in to talk to you because everyone else was too cowardly to do so.  Dumbledore, fortunately enough for him, was busy meeting with Hagrid and the giant envoys."

"He is?"  Rain asked, intrigued.

"Yes.  Oddly enough, the world does not revolve around Katraina McGonagall."  As Rain was about to say something rude, Minerva added, "Although from Severus' recent behaviour, one wouldn't know it."

Rain hated it that those words lightened her heart.  "Go away."

Minerva slapped her hand on Rain's bedside table.  "I will _not go away!  You are no longer a child, Katraina!  You are a clan head and a Hogwarts professor!  And yet here I am, having to chastise you for behaving like a child.  Locking yourself in your room, walking about in a temper for days!  The other teachers had to fill in for you for a day and a half.  What in heaven's name are you thinking?"  
  
_

Rain blanched.  The last time Min had yelled at her like this, she'd been caught with a Restricted Section book the Marauders had used in a prank against the Slytherins.  She hung her head.  "I really don't want to talk about it."

"And I really don't care what you want, Katraina," Min said acidly.  "You will explain yourself this instant."

Instinctively Rain slid down from the windowseat and put her hands behind her back.  She felt as if she were eleven again.  "I was stupid.  I got worried about Remus after the meeting with the Phoenicians.  I went by myself down to the Three Broomsticks."

"Rain, you didn't!"  Min looked horrified.

"I did.  I wasn't thinking straight."  Rain felt her stomach drop.  When she thought of the trouble Min had taken, to get her sober again--and so Rain had let Min down just as she had Severus and Sirius.  "I just, that is...I thought, if something should happen--"  Min was looking very severe indeed.  Rain hung her head.  "And then Severus came looking for me.  He was dreadfully angry, Min.  I let him down,  I disobeyed his instructions, and I ignored his warnings, and then I didn't even go to him for assurance, when he was the only one who could have given it."  She shook her head violently.  "I'm such an idiot sometimes!  Why do I always cock things up?"

Minerva was implacable.  "Perhaps because you don't always think things through properly.  I don't think your publishers would agree that you are an idiot.  Nor would the scholars and the public who enjoy your books.  And I notice Heatherhall hasn't fallen in yet.  The clan has a great deal of confidence in you.  Consider that half of them are Slytherins, and in fourteen years not one of them has tried to depose you."

Rain hiccoughed.  "Only because no one else wants it."

Minerva threw her hands in the air.  "Please tell me you have not been feeling sorry for yourself for a week!"

Rain looked away, her heart thumping, her mouth suddenly dry.  She couldn't tell Min about Severus, could she?  She opened her mouth, hesitated, and closed it again.

Minerva's expression softened.  "Well, I can see you haven't.  But Rain, you'd do better to tell me."  After a moment of silence, she added, "Sirius has already told me some of it."

Rain stared at her.  "Sirius?  He doesn't have anything to--"  She cut off her words, feeling betrayed.  
  
"I know that," Min said, her voice gentler.  "But he was worried for you Monday night, and went out looking for you.  He heard you--ask Severus to--to tell you that he loved you."  Min looked compassionately at her.  "Poor dearling, have you gone and fallen in love with them both?"

Rain looked down, feeling decidedly miserable.  "Oh, Min, it's worse than that.  I made a total ass of myself, and--and--Severus doesn't want me!"  She bit her lip hard, willing herself to be calm, and it actually worked.

Min stared at her.  "Doesn't want--why, that's poppycock, Rain.  Severus simply worships you, and anyone who knows him out to know that.  Even I can see it, and I've always been exceedingly disappointed in him."

"For going over to Voldemort?" Rain asked, confused.

"For going to Voldemort, for throwing away his potential, for giving up on you."

"Giving up on me?"  Rain stared at her, a new suspicion forming.  "You knew?  _You_ knew we were betrothed?"  
  


Minerva chuckled weakly.  "I've given too much away tonight.  Esme would have my head.  As would Severus."  She sighed.  "Yes, Rain, I knew of your family's plan for you--because Esme knew how much I...care for you, girl.  She thought I should know, after Mairie.  I confess, when Albus asked me to bring you here, I was torn between hope and anxiety.  I--I felt it was only right for me to apprise Albus of the situation."

"How many people knew of this before I did?" Rain said bitterly.  Oh, it had been wise on Esme's part to tell Min--but did the entire wizarding world know?  Perhaps they'd posted the banns when she wasn't looking.

"Well, anyway," she said, "he made it clear enough on Tuesday that he wanted nothing to do with me.  And I suppose I'm overset for two reasons--that's one, of course; the other is that I love Remus, and I shouldn't care that Severus doesn't want me."

She looked up at her cousin and saw that the Gryffindor's face was sweet and tender.  "Oh, Min," she whispered, and Minerva enveloped her in a hug.  "God help me, I do care.  I do."

~ * ~

Her father had died.  That was what had taken from Severus the courage to speak.  He had lived the past two years in the knowledge that when he did speak, it would be supported both by his father and hers.  It had been arranged, before he had even thought to ask for such an arrangement for himself.  The thought had pleased him.  No other person had ever made him feel as alive.  No other person had ever made him question himself, the way Katraina had.  It was a natural progression of their relationship that she had begun by challenging him, and that she continued by challenging him.  Severus liked who he was when he was under her influence.  He liked being more thoughtful, less corrosive.  It had got so that Severus looked forward to leaving Hogwarts, because then he could speak.  He could speak and have it in the open, and have things ready.  And then her father had died.

When Severus was in his seventh year, and Rain in her sixth, her father had died suddenly and without warning.  Fergus McGonagall, Lord Heatherhall, The McGonagall of Clan McGonagall, had been hurt in a hunting accident and had died before anyone had found him.  The news had come as a considerable shock to Katraina, but Esme had come back to the school especially for the purpose of informing her sister.  Esme had come to Severus first, entreated him to go with her, and told Katraina in the Headmaster's Office.  Esme had been the one who held her when she began crying, the one who wiped her tears away and smoothed her hair, while Severus performed the menial tasks such as getting tea for everyone.  And Esme's gratitude, and even the gratitude he knew Rain would express, were she coherent, were little comfort to Severus when he realized he was not the person to whom she had turned for comfort.

Fergus McGonagall had died, and with him had died Severus' hopes of the easy agreement that had been drawn up between the two families.  He had wanted desperately to speak to Katraina that day, to tell her of the agreement, to promise her he would always take care of her.  Yet he held his tongue, hoping in the future he might have more to offer her.

Fergus McGonagall had died in a hunting accident; and it was only three years later, when Severus had achieved a certain measure of status among the Death Eaters, that he had learned that while someone _had_ been hunting Fergus, his death had certainly been no accident.

He thought of a conversation he'd had once with Esme, during the winter holidays his sixth year.  Their families always spent Christmas together--and that had been awful, the year Remus Lupin had gone home with Rain--and usually Severus ended up watching Rain across the room, unable to make himself speak to her in front of the gathered adults.  Esme had sidled up next to him, staring out the window at the lackluster snowflakes spitting down on them.

_"You should talk to her, Severus.  She doesn't understand why you won't."_

_He sat silent for a long time, half hoping she would go away.  She didn't.  Finally he opened his mouth, unsure of what he wanted to say, and surprised himself with the truth.  "Love.  Have you ever been in love?"_

_"You might say that."_

_"Horrible, isn't it?"_

_"In what way?"_

_"It makes you so vulnerable.  It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up.  You build up these defenses.  You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you.  They don't ask for it.  They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore."_

_To which Esme had, after all, had no response._

For once Severus scowled at the Slytherins and Gryffindors with an equal measure of displeasure.  Not only had Potter and Weasley managed to correctly brew a Perception Potion--amazingly, due to Potter's own skill for once--but Zabini and Bulstrode had cocked theirs up so badly that their cauldron had erupted, spewing the sparkly red potion over everyone on that side of the room.  Several students had begun breaking out in rashes; Malfoy and Zabini had been directly in the line of fire.

As Zabini whimpered and rubbed at her eyes, Malfoy shouted at her.  Boils were erupting on her face, and already her eyes were hidden in the swollen flesh.  Malfoy had been badly doused with it, though it hadn't hit his eyes.  Severus took a firmer grasp on his temper and said, "Very nice, Miss Bulstrode.  Perhaps for an encore you will melt the table next to you?  That is quite enough, Draco.  The two of you might as well go to the hospital wing.  Potter, Weasley, help them."

As the two Gryffindors stared at him in horror, Severus walked to Bulstrode and barked out a charm to reverse the rash.  When he saw the two boys weren't moving, Severus snapped, "Now!  Five points from Gryffindor, for failing to obey a teacher."  They ran.  Severus turned back and smiled unpleasantly.  "And as for you, Miss Bulstrode...sixty points from Slytherin."

The Gryffindors and Slytherins alike gave one collective gasp as he turned and strode to the next students who needed the countercharm to remove the rash.

~*~

Rain stride briskly towards her classroom, eager to prepare for her first lesson.  She had come out of seclusion that morning, explaining to the head table, over breakfast, that she'd had a dazzling headache, and expressing her thanks to those who had covered her classes.  She was ready to begin teaching World War II and Grindelwald's Nazi involvement, and was looking forward to sharing Winston Churchill with her students.

As she turned a corner, Rain saw a group of students ahead of her, approaching a redheaded girl--Ginny Weasley, of course.  The identities of the others surprised her: Blaise Zabini, looking as if she'd had a bad encounter with a Blast-Ended Skrewt, and Draco Malfoy, who was cradling one arm against his chest; they were accompanied by Harry and Ron.  It didn't take much to deduce that there'd been an accident, though whether it had been Potions, Charms, or Care of Magical Creatures, Rain had no idea.

"Oh, this is ill news brewing," she murmured.  They didn't appear to have seen her, so she ducked behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy, and waited.

As Ginny drew abreast of the group, Draco's foot shot out and hooked around her ankle.  She fell headlong, books, quills, parchment, and ink flying in all directions.  The ink bottle smashed against the stone and left a smear of purple ink.  Ginny hit the floor heavily with a small cry.  Draco laughed.

"Why you--"  To Rain's surprise, Harry reacted faster than Ron.  He gripped Draco's collar and slammed him into the wall.  The blond boy winced.  Blaise crumpled, staggering into Ron and distracting him.

Rain left her hiding spot and reached the group as Harry pulled his fist back to punch Draco.  "I think that will be enough, Potter," she said calmly.

Everyone jumped except Draco, whose eyes widened as he saw her.  Blaise quickly slumped against Ron again, and Rain bit the inside of her mouth.  It was obviously a sham; the girl had spoken once before of Slytherin solidarity, after all.

Harry hadn't released Draco, and as he turned to stare at Rain with flashing eyes, she saw the slighter boy wince under the pressure.  "Professor!" Harry exclaimed.  "You don't know what Malfoy--"

"I saw everything, Potter," Rain said, unsmiling.  "Why don't you let go of Draco and see if Ginny's hurt."  It was not a suggestion.

"Yes, cease manhandling me, Potter," Draco drawled.  "Think of the waste of house-elf time, getting the wrinkles out of my robes."

"And as for you," Rain said, her voice and eyes chilly as she turned to him.  "I expected better from a prefect.  Twenty points from Slytherin.  And I expect you to apologize to Miss Weasley."

His mouth dropped open.  "Apologize!  To that mousey little piece of Muggle-loving dirt?  I most certainly will not!"

"You most certainly will, Mr Malfoy," she said grimly.  "And that will cost you another ten points.  And a detention."

Blaise sat up.  "Detention?"

Rain softened her expression slightly.  "Not for you, Miss Zabini.  That was a lovely faint, by the way.  Have you ever thought of taking up acting?"  The poor girl's face was too disfigured for her to show a blush.  Rain looked at Draco once more.

"You, Mr Malfoy, will spend the next fortnight carrying Miss Weasley's books for her."

Ron and Harry looked at her with identical expressions of horror.  "Malfoy carrying books for my sister!" Ron exclaimed.  "Professor, it sounds like you're punishing Ginny!"

If Draco had been considering defying her, that did it.  He straightened, dusted his robes, and looked at Rain with steely eyes.  "Very well," he said coldly, ignoring Ron and Harry.  "I'm afraid Professor Snape won't like it."

That stung a bit, but she didn't let it show.  "I think you'll find that Severus will support my decision," she said quietly.  "Being Sorted into Slytherin House does not exempt you from living with honour, Mr Malfoy.  A fortnight.  And if I find your behaviour anything but exemplary, the period will be extended."

Draco stared into her eyes for a moment longer, and she was awed by the rawness of that gaze.  Tormented by ambition and doubt, rage and loneliness, confusion and darkness--Draco was so much like Severus had been that it nearly took her breath.  But she gave him a calm stare, and he backed down.

Walking to where Harry and Ron were kneeling by Ginny, he stopped in front of her, his back straight as a wand, and bowed formally.  "Virginia, you have my apologies," he said, his tone unreadable.  "Did I hurt you?"

Ginny looked at Rain, confusion in her brown eyes, and Rain thanked God for uncomplicated Gryffindors.  She nodded slightly and Ginny looked back at Draco.  "My ankle," she said in a voice less timid than anyone had expected.

Draco gave her a long considering look.  "Well," he said after a moment, "I was going to the hospital wing.  Perhaps you should accompany me."

Harry and Ron were gaping at him, but fortunately they kept still as Ginny allowed Draco to pull her upright and support her weight.  After a moment, Ron helped Blaise stand up, and she murmured her thanks and flashed him an almost shy look.  His ears went red.

"I'll go with them to Madam Pomfrey," Harry volunteered, looking hard at Draco.

"Right then," Rain agreed, privately amused.  "Why don't you come with me to my classroom and tell me what happened, Ron?"

As they walked, Ron explained to her about a botched potion and having to take Blaise and Draco to the hospital wing.  He only showed any emotion when he reached Draco's attack on Ginny.  "And that slimy git actually dared to do it right in front of us!" he finished, his ears glowing with indignation.

"It was actually rather brave of him, wasn't it?" Rain said dryly.  "Beastly, but brave."

"For Cowardly Malfoy, sure," Ron said.

"Rest assured, Professor Snape will hear of it."

Ron's ears went redder still.  "Not that Snape will do anything about it.  Professor, no one understands why you'd be friends with that bastard!"

"Ronald!" Rain said, not having to feign her shock.

"Sorry, Professor," he began, then looked up at her with a mulish expression that tugged at her memory.  "But he is, and no one understands!"

Rain let out her breath slowly.  "Ron, have you ever wished that you and Draco Malfoy could be friends?"  
  


Ron stared at her, but he considered the question before answering.  "Friends?  Well, I dunno.  I reckon so," he said slowly, "if he weren't such a git."  He stopped, as if remembering something.  "He tried to be friends with Harry, our first year.  Huh.  Glad Harry had the sense not to accept it.  I mean, no one likes Malfoy except his own house, and from what I hear, not even all of them do.  They're just afraid of his goons, or his daddy's money."  

Rain nodded.  "That's not the case with you, is it?"  
  


"What d'you mean?"  
  


"You have friends, don't you?" Rain asked, smiling.

"Well, everyone likes Weasleys.  I'm just another Weasley."  He sounded glum.

"Oh, come now!  Not to Harry; he isn't best friends with Fred or George, is he?  And you can't tell me Hermione thinks that one Weasley is as good as the next."

Ron's entire face turned scarlet, never mind the ears.

"Ron, people like you for who you are, not who your father can buy.  You have parents who love you, loads of great siblings, and two friends who would do anything for you out of love, not fear.  Not to mention you're the best chess player in the school and you get to hang out with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.  Don't you think maybe Draco Malfoy envies you?"

She had stunned him.  He stared blankly down the hallway, his brown eyes wide, his mouth slightly slack.  At last he said, "I never, ever thought of that, Professor.  I mean…he's always been such a nasty git…"  He shook his head.  "So Snape envied Harry's dad, then?"

Rain lifted one shoulder and tilted her head, smiling.  She remembered painful encounters and names like _Snivellus and _Mudblack_ being thrown about.  "Or perhaps he envied Sirius.  But I'll tell you, Ron--__Professor Snape has a brilliant mind, and he is on Dumbledore's side.  No matter how unorthodox his methods."_

Ron nodded slowly.  "Right.  Well.  Doesn't mean I like him, though."

Rain laughed.  "And I suppose it doesn't mean he likes all of the headmaster's people, either.  Well, here we are, Ron.  Thank you for your time.  You run on back to the Potions dungeon, now.  Tell Severus I excused you."

Ron nodded doubtfully and went.  Rain sat down at her desk and shuffled her papers into a neat pile, got essays ready to hand back, and made sure her bookmark in _Their Finest Hour_ was at the correct passage.  Then she waited for her sixth years.

The sixth year Ravenclaws and Slytherins always made for an interesting lesson.  For one thing Cho Chang was top student in her year, and while she was still easily upset over Diggory, she was young enough to be resilient.  Her summer of grief had forged a passionate determination to do everything to oppose Voldemort.  On the other hand, this form also included Adrian Pucey, a clever Slytherin who was ruthless about the fate of all Muggleborns like Chang.  An interesting lesson indeed.

When the students were all seated--Ravenclaws with quills in hand, Slytherins slouching in their seats--Rain smiled around at them and said, "Right.  We've been talking about Grindelwald and his influence on both Wizarding and Muggle life in the 30s and 40s.  Who can tell me about the British Prime Minister?"

Adrian raised his hand.  "It was Laurence Malfoy, wasn't it?"

Rain blinked.  "Close, Mr Pucey.  But I meant the Muggle Prime Minister, not our Minister of Magic."

Chang raised her hand.  "Sir Winston Churchill."

Rain smiled.  "Very good.  Five points to Ravenclaw.  Can anyone tell me anything about Churchill?"

"He looked like bulldog," drawled another Slytherin.  The entire house snickered.  Rain ignored this.

Mr Pucey raised his hand again.  "He said to never give up."  To Rain's surprise, he managed a passable imitation of Churchill's inflection.

Rain nodded.  "Good.  Five points to Slytherin.  Do you know what he was talking about when he said it?"

Silence.  Rain smiled.

"Churchill was nearing the end of his career.  He had been invited to speak at Harrow, his old school.  When the day of his speech finally arrived, he got up before the school and said, simply, 'Young men, never give up.  Never give up!  Never give up!  Never, never, never—never—never!'"

"I think that is some of the best advice anyone has ever given.  And it is advice that you should all take to heart."  She surveyed them for a moment.

"Right, then.  We've already established that Grindelwald was working with Hitler.  But does anyone know if there was any cooperation between the Wizarding world and the Allied Forces?"

More silence.  She waited, and finally another Ravenclaw girl's hand crept up.  "Well, there had to have been some interaction, right?  I--I think I've heard that Dumbledore helped defeat Grindelwald."

"Oh, very good," said one of the Slytherins.  "Someone's been reading their chocolate frog cards."  Rain looked at him, and he subsided, but she was actually amused.  After all, he had known what Dumbledore's card said.  That spoke of curiosity, if nothing more.

"Well, here is what Churchill had to say about the matter."  Opening _Their Finest Hour_, Rain read aloud:  "During the human struggle between the British and German Air Forces, between pilot and pilot, between anti-aircraft batteries and aircraft, between ruthless bombing and the fortitude of the British people, another conflict was going on step by step, month by month.  This was a secret war, whose battles were lost or won unknown to the public, and only with difficulty comprehended, even now, by those outside the small high wizarding circles concerned.  No such warfare had ever been waged by mortal men.  The terms in which it could be recorded or talked about were unintelligible to ordinary folk.  Yet if we had not mastered its profound meaning and used its mysteries even while we saw them only in the glimpse, all the efforts, all the prowess of the fighting airmen, all the bravery and sacrifices of the people, would have been in vain.  Unless British wizardry had proved superior to German, and unless its strange sinister resources had been effectively brought to bear on the struggle for survival, we might well have been defeated, and, being defeated, destroyed."

She stopped and looked around at them.  "_Their Finest Hour_, chapter four, 'The Wizard War'.  So.  Winston Churchill--Muggle?  Or more?  What do you think?  Adrian?"

"Well, Professor, you called him the Defiant Muggle.  And Muggle Prime Ministers are apprised of the Wizarding World's existence.  I would posit that Churchill was a Muggle; but that he took great strides to coordinate efforts between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds."

"Very nice, Mr Pucey.  And did Minister Malfoy succeed in assisting Churchill?  Miss Chang?"

"The Malfoy family is against Muggles, ma'am.  Like Marietta said, it was Headmaster Dumbledore--then a teacher of Transfiguration--who actually brought Grindelwald down."

Rain nodded.  "Thank you.  Yes, it was the first time (though obviously not the last) when Dumbledore found himself at odds with the Ministry."  She smiled slightly.  All of them, even the Slytherins, were leaning forward in their seats.  "And now, please turn in your books to Chapter Eight.  Who would like to tell us something about Helga's Legacy..."

~*~

Draco held back his scowl as he picked up his copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ and tried to balance it on top of Virginia Weasley's stack of four books.  He would not allow anyone to think he did this out of anything but his own free will.  He had been prepared to threaten Blaise with hexes or gossip; to his surprise, the thin, pale girl had only gazed solemnly at him with her glittering violet eyes.

_"Don't worry, Draco," she had said, surprising him with the use of his first name.  "I believe in Slytherin solidarity."_

_"Ah," he had replied, understanding.  "How much is it to be, then?"  
  
_

_"How much?"_

_"I presume that you propose to blackmail me.  How much do you want?"  
  
_

_"Nothing," she said simply.  "I will keep my silence for the sake of Slytherin house."_

_She was mental, but Draco chose to ignore that and accept the good fortune as his due as a Malfoy.  He would definitely keep a close watch on her, though.  Blaise was a mystery, and that made her dangerous.  And she had a brother in Ravenclaw._

"Am I interrupting a private moment, Draco?" asked a too-sweet female voice.  Weasley.  He scowled out of habit, then quickly schooled his features back to impassivity.

"Of course not, Virginia.  You're a part of it.  How could you be interrupting?"

She frowned at him.  "Don't call me that.  Only my grandmother calls me that."

"A bit American, isn't it?"

"So what?" she asked, and he was pleased at the defensive tone of her voice.

"Oh, it just seems so modern.  You know--Muggle."

She flushed.  "Don't start that Pureblood rubbish with me, Draco Malfoy.  I don't care how pure anyone's blood is.  What matters, like Professor Rain said, is if you live with honour."

"Honour!" he scoffed.  But her words, instead of angering him, unsettled him.  First Rain McGonagall, then Virginia Weasley.  "What would a Weasley know about honour?" he asked, stalking towards the greenhouses.

Ginny kept up with him easily; she was nearly as tall as Ron.  Draco, who _wasn't_ as tall as Ron, stood level with her.  He increased his pace, but she matched him stride for stride.

"Plenty," she replied, lifting her chin and glancing sidelong at him.  "Honour doesn't cost money, Malfoy.  It costs in character.  And character is born out of adversity."

He snorted.  "Then I'm sure you Weasleys have it in spades.  In which case, why would I want it?"  He pushed through the door of Greenhouse Three and deposited Ginny's books on a potting table.  She snickered.  He felt his face heat, though he didn't know why.  "What's your problem?" he snarled, and blushed even hotter when she laughed aloud.

"Spades," she explained, and pointed at one leaning against the greenhouse wall.

He wasn't amused.  It was too much like she was laughing at him.  "Why don't you shut your ugly mouth, Muggle-lover," he snapped, and was gratified when she stopped laughing and stared at him with wide brown eyes.  "You'd better not leave here until I come back for you.  Bint McGonagall would get angry, and then I'd make sure you were sorry."

She stared solemnly at him, and he turned and left, trying to sweep out the way Professor Snape would.  His efforts were hampered by the stupid chattering fourth years, who didn't get out of his way as quickly as they ought.  As he left, she shouted after him, words that would haunt him.

"Don't you have _any_ friends?"

Friends.  Of course he had friends!  He scowled at Rain's back as she wrote Monday's assignment on the board.  Who did that red-headed little brat think she was, anyway?  Did _she_ have any friends?  He couldn't remember; he'd never paid that much attention to her, anyway.  Everyone knew she fancied Potter, of course.  The only reasons Draco had ever bothered with her were to twit Weasley about her and to twit Potter about her.  It was convenient, but it didn't require Draco to pay attention to her.

It surprised him, in a mild degree, that he and Virginia had even spoken to one another as they walked.  Granted, she had sassed him at Flourish and Blotts back in second year, but she'd been defending Potter then, hadn't she?  Draco would have expected, if he'd bothered to think of it at all, that Ginny would squeak and blush if spoken to.

Of course he had friends!  Look at Crabbe and Goyle.  He glanced over at them; Crabbe had his finger digging in his ear and Goyle was playing crosses and noughts with himself.  Er...well, _don't_ look at Crabbe and Goyle.  But Parkinson and Zabini could be considered...well, social equals, he supposed.  Prospects, if he were totally honest.  Bulstrode.  She was shaping up to be a decent Beater, if only because of her bulk.  She was a bit too brutish to talk to, though.  A female Goyle...yech.

He ran his mind over the list of Slytherins.  Terence Higgs--surprising easy (and therefore boring) to bully.  Theresa Nott--a wild card, but pretty enough.  Avery--a fair hand at Wizard's chess.  Draco nodded once in satisfaction.  Yes, Avery would do for a friend.

"Mr Malfoy, did you have a question?"  Rain McGonagall's voice broke into his ruminations and abruptly he came back to himself.  The classroom was empty except for the two of them.  Rain was looking at him expectantly.

"No, I--that is--well, yes, actually."  He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin as an idea occurred to him.  "I thought I should warn you that my father is a very powerful man.  He says--"

"I don't give a tinker's damn what your father says, Mr Malfoy," she interrupted.  White rage flashed through him, but she continued without pausing.  "I am not here to educate your father; _that_ task is apparently impossible.  I am here to educate you.  And you show considerably more promise than Lucius ever did."

Draco couldn't suppress the rush of pleasure those words brought him; this only made him angrier.  "If he finds out--" Draco began, and to his fury she cut him off again, deliberately (he thought) misunderstanding him.

"Oh, he won't find out, Mr Malfoy.  As long as I don't catch you out being beastly again.  No one outside of Hogwarts teachers will find out from me, so long as you behave."

Her words were laden with threat--or promise?--though her tone was light.  She almost managed to sound as if she weren't blackmailing him.  Draco relaxed; he understood this sort of language.

"Don't worry," he muttered.

"Good!"  She smiled at him.  "Now, I believe Miss Weasley will be waiting for you?"

As he left the History of Magic classroom, Draco smirked.  He had told her not to worry.  He had never promised to behave.

~*~

Rain walked slowly towards the Great Hall.  Lunchtime chatter poured out of the hall and spilled down the corridors, but she was caught in a moment of melancholy.  If she were being truthful, she would be forced to admit that she had been avoiding Severus, but had also been just as reluctant to see Remus.

She had asked him into her office last night and explained to him, in tones stiff with embarrassment, the events that had transpired after he left for Wales.  She included her asinine drinking spree, as well as Severus' gentle treatment of her.  She did not include her foolish invitation of Severus' love, nor the argument they had the next day.  She pleaded a dazzling headache, which was true enough.

"Why didn't you ask Snape for a potion to help with the pain?" Remus had asked.

"Severus is…still unhappy with me," she replied, certain it was true.

"Pomfrey, then?"

"Oh, for pity's sake, I deserved to suffer a bit, Remus!  D'you remember how Dumbledore always refused to magic off any bruises from Sirius' and James' frolicking with the Slytherins?  Magic is an amazing gift, which brings with it responsibility.  But there are actions for which we must accept the consequences.  I happen to feel that drinking is one of them."

He had nodded, apparently conceding the point, and had then pulled her over to the window seat, where he held her and told her about his mission, punctuating the sentences with kisses dropped on the nape of her neck.

It had made her feel horribly guilty.  How could she love Remus for seventeen years, because he was quiet, kind, and funny, if she could also somehow find it in her to thrill at the sensation of being lifted in Severus' arms?  Even dead drunk she had been cognizant of the fact that he smelled gingerly, and that--at the moment, at least--her hair was as greasy as his.  When she had gone clubbing, much earlier in her career as an anonymous alcoholic, she had every night undergone a transfiguration that even the most Mundane Muggle girl would understand:  her carefully styled curls would frizz and become staticky.  Her face paled, except her nose, which reddened, and her lipstick wore off.  Being lifted in Severus Snape's arms made her feel as though she looked ten times worse than the forst Club Night Transfirguration.  And yet she also felt, somehow, that it didn't bother him in the least.

She paused in the middle of the hall as a movement caught her eye.  On the wall hung a painting of a woman clutching the hand of a knight.  The woman knelt before him, and her dress was patterned like a snake's skin.  On the ground near her feet wound a snake's tail.  Rain knew this painting, and shuddered slightly:  _Lamia by Waterhouse.  As she watched, the woman lifted her hand to the man's face, brought his face down to hers, and then the knight pulled away again._

Rain sighed.  Neither of them cared about that, of course.  Remus had reacted badly to the secret, that was all.  Severus had merely promised to help her.  She wondered briefly if he would continue to brew the Sangrapura Potion, but of course she knew he would.  Not only was it his duty and an oath he had taken, but she couldn't entirely believe his complete reversal of feelings.  His profession of falseness had come only after he had carried her, nursed her, and raged at her.  And left her a rose.

Besides, if he had wanted only the Death Eaters to believe he loved her, he would have told her sooner.  She would have willingly gone along with it, and he knew her well enough to realize that.  He had been so different this term, to how he'd been during their school days.  Yes, there was an even darker side to him, but he seemed more vitally aware of what he stood to lose.

The only explanation could be that he had acted as he did to protect her.  She hadn't been able to see that, right after That Horrible Night, but it was plain enough now.  She was torn between being amusedly angry at his presumption, and thinking his protectiveness was sweet.  She still hadn't decided entirely how to react.

A whine behind her made her turn.  "Snuffles!  What are you doing here?  I thought I'd shut you in my office!"

The dog glanced up and down the abandoned hallway in a decidedly human fashion, then became Sirius, who dragged her into a small side closet.  He put a hand over her mouth to keep her still.  Robbed of her words, Rain glared furiously at him.

"Shh!" he breathed.  "I know I'm not meant to be here, but an urgent owl came from Muggleplug.  I have to talk to Church, but he's in the Great Hall and I can't exactly go in and get him."

Rai noted with a mixture of amusement and alarm the way the codenames spilled from his mouth.  She nodded and he removed his hand.  "I'll get him," she said.  "You go back to my rooms.  He knows the password."

Sirius kept hold of her wrist.  "Rainstorm, you won't--I mean, you--"  He paused.  "He'll need you, you know."

Rain blinked at him.  Did Sirius see something in the future that she had missed?  "I know that," she said gently, and pulled free of his grip.  "Go on, now.  And be careful!"  She waited until her black dog had run back the way he had come.  Then she made her way to the head table of the Great Hall.

The head table was full.  A woman who was simply too big to be allowed was sitting beside Hagrid; Rain assumed she was Olympe Maxime.  Next to her was a lovely blonde girl who seemed to be a strange mixture of ice and flowers.  That would probably be their envoy to the veela.  To her surprise, she also saw Arthur Weasley seated next to Dumbledore, a red-haired boy--well, young man, actually--with glasses on his other side.  But why would Arthur send an owl if he were here?  And which of his other sons was this--Charlie or Percy?

With horror Rain realized Remus and Severus were seated next to one another, carefully _not brushing elbows or looking at each other.  She stood between them and touched Remus' shoulder.  Both men looked up, but Severus looked away again very quickly._

"You've had an owl," she told Remus quietly.  "Snuffles found it; I was afraid he'd eat the ickle thing."

Remus grinned.  "If it's that one who delivered my first letter, I shouldn't blame him.  I was tempted to eat it myself."

Rain thought she heard an unpleasant snicker out of Severus, but she didn't turn.  She caught Remus' eye.  "My room," she mouthed, and he nodded.  Finishing off his lunch, he stood up.

"Why don't you take my seat, Rain?  I'm finished here.  I'll go check on my 'ickle' owl."

Severus began to stand up, but Rain put a hand on his shoulder and pushed.  "Excellent," she said, smiling brilliantly at Remus.  "I need to have a few words with Severus, anyway."

"Oh, joy," Snape muttered, and Remus arched an eyebrow and left.

"Don't you dare," Rain hissed back at Severus.  "You will listen to me, Severus."

He gave her a sour look and settled back into his chair expectantly.

"I know what you were doing the other day.  I may be a fool, but I know you, Severus.  That was very noble of you, but also extremely misguided.  I am capable of making my own decisions, regardless of how many mistakes I may make along the way."  She spoke softly to avoid attracting listeners.  "You have always had the sense to know when to lie and when to own up to something--I still remember the time you slipped love-in-a-mist into James' pumpkin juice and he tried to hand his homework to Lily and kiss Minerva.  You were lucky Min found it amusing."

He blinked at her.  "You are being excessively foolish, Katraina."

"Am I?"  She smiled at him--a hard smile--and tilted her head to one side.  "No, Severus, you're the one making a complete ass of himself.  You cannot treat me in one manner all term, and then suddenly change your tune as if you'd been switched to a different wireless station.  It simply doesn't work that way."

"What do you want me to say, Katraina?  You want me to whisper sweet nothings, to pledge undying affection?  Swear I will be loyal only to you?  You should know me better.  I have no room in my life for nonsense and frippery; my loyalty is all used up by Albus Dumbledore."  He, too, kept his voice low, but the savage bitterness in it surprised her.  His fists were clenched, and he leaned towards her, scowling.

She changed tacks.  "Did you know the Clan tried twice to marry me off?  Both times I had to be polite until the poor fellow actually declared his intentions."

"And then?" he asked, returning to his usual sardonic tone.  He glanced at his hands, as if surprised by the fists, and folded his arms across his chest.

"I told him to clear off.  Of course, I wouldn't have had to go through it all if you'd only spoken up."

"Would've married a Death Eater, then, would you?  And here I thought you'd been saving yourself for the werewolf."  His tone now indicated only irritated boredom.

She sidestepped it.  "Damn it, Severus!  Why don't you act like you've more wit than Draco Malfoy?"

Oh, dear, perhaps she'd said that too loudly.  Sinistra and Vector broke off and turned to stare at them.  Severus' mouth tightened slightly, but there was an odd glitter in his eyes.  He ignored their watching colleagues as he leaned forward.

"Katraina, I give you full marks for pairing him with the Weasley girl, but don't presume too much.  Poor fellow.  God help him if she deals with him as you have with me.  I never--"  He broke off, glaring at her, then stood up and swept out of the hall.

Sinistra and Vector applauded, looking impressed.  "Good on you, Rain," Vector said.  "I've never won a single argument with the man!"

Rain gave her a sickly smile and looked down at the table.  She wasn't entirely certain she'd won that argument.

~*~

Arthur Weasley was pacing when Remus arrived in the Muggle Studies classroom.  "Thank you for seeing me, Remus," the older man said, relief plain on his honest face.  "Horus said you'd seen him recently."

"Yes," Remus said, wondering if Bill were hidden even from his father.  He sat at one of the desks and looked at Arthur expectantly.

"Ah, I see he didn't tell you of this."  Arthur took a seat across from him.  "Percy, of course, doesn't know Bill is alive--the Ministry was a part of the reason he vanished, after all, and Percy is a Ministry man to the core."  He sighed, his brow furrowing.  "Ah, well, I still have hope for him.  That's beside the point, of course.  Bill is hidden from anyone who lives at the Burrow.  Our son Charlie is his Secret Keeper--"

"You're using the Fidelius Charm?" Remus interrupted, feeling slightly ill.

"Why, yes.  You're familiar with it?"  Then a look of comprehension and pity washed across Arthur's face.  "Oh, of course.  I'm terribly sorry, Mr Lupin."

"Remus," he corrected, forcing a smile.  "Go on, Arthur."

"Yes, well, Charlie's in Romania and not too easy to find himself--one of the reasons he was the best candidate, you know.  So Bill said if I needed to contact him, I could do so through you."

"Oh, of course.  Bill set up a Correspondio Charm for my handwriting."

Arthur nodded and handed Remus a small scroll.  "He needs to know certain things.  If you would make certain he receives this…"

Remus nodded and changed the subject.  "How are the Azkaban wards holding up?"

"Oh, tolerably.  Fudge won't listen to any of us who are agitating for permanent Obliviation, though.  It would be kinder than the Kiss, for lifers, and hopefully combined with Stupefaction, it would eliminate the need for the Dementors."

"That was a good idea," Remus said.

"Ron's," Arthur replied, beaming.  "He told me something Hermione Granger said gave him it.  What was it he wanted us to call it?  Wizards for Azkaban's Decency?  Or Compassion for Azkaban Wizards?"  He sighed.  "Smart lad, Ron.  He's made us very proud."

Remus smiled, thinking back on a similar conversation with Harry.  "You should tell him that."

"You're right, you're right.  Never know when…these days are so uncertain."  Arthur's eyes were very bright suddenly.

At that moment the door opened and a group of Ravenclaws came filing in.  They looked confused at the sight of the two men.  Remus stood up.  "Professor Howell will be along in a moment.  In the meantime, this is Arthur Weasley, author of the Muggle Protection Act."

He grinned and slipped out of the room as hands shot into the air.  Ravenclaws were insatiably--and predictably--curious.  When he returned to his office, he was surprised to find Percy Weasley waiting for him.  The young man had taken off his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose.  He turned as Remus approached.

"Hello, Percy," Remus said, smiling at him.  The boy was a bit pompous, perhaps, and mistaken about Voldemort, but he was a promising lad, provided he didn't go the way of Bartemius Crouch.

"Professor."  Percy put his glasses back on.  "Could we talk privately, sir?"

"Of course."  Remus preceded Percy into his office.  "Tea?"

"No, thank you, sir.  I'm here in--ah--an unofficial capacity, please understand.  But I wanted to ask you a few questions."

Remus gave him a bland smile and raised his eyebrows.

"Sir, I know you were friends with Sirius Black.  My younger brother Ron had mentioned it."

That was blunt.  "Yes, he was in my year."

"Sir, can you think of any place he might hide out from the Ministry?"

"I'm afraid I can't help you there, Percy.  We lost touch when the Ministry sentenced him to Azkaban."

"You haven't seen him since his trial, then?"

Remus blinked.  "There was no trial, Percy."

"Nonsense!  There's always a trial!"  Percy's ears, Remus noticed, were rather pink.

"Not in Sirius' case, I'm afraid.  Which led to other mistakes, of course."

Percy stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed.  Then he sniffed.  "I'm sure proper procedure was followed.  The Ministry has its reasons."

"Undoubtedly," Remus said dryly.  "But in this case they punished the wrong man.  Peter Pettigrew was to blame for the death's of Harry's parents."

"Pettigrew!  Rubbish!  He's dead.  Black murdered him, too."

"What proof is there of that?" Remus asked reasonably.  "Percy, I saw Pettigrew with my own eyes a year and a half ago.  Harry saw him again this past summer."

Percy's ears were scarlet.  At these words he got a furious expression on his face.  "Oh, honestly, Professor, you can't tell me you believe all these ridiculous claims Harry is making!  I really thought, with your experience, you would know better!"

Remus forced himself to relax.  Percy was young, inexperienced—rash.  The young so rarely thought about the consequences of their words.  He took a deep breath and managed a mild tone.  "That was a bit out of line, Percy.  I believe that, as a Hogwarts Professor, I do still deserve at least a pretense of respect."

Percy flinched slightly and looked down.  "My apologies, Professor," he said stiffly.  Then he looked up again.  "But, sir, are you certain you don't know where Black might be hiding?"

He stifled a sigh.  "As I said before, I can't tell you anything about Sirius' whereabouts."

Percy sniffed.  "Very well.  I knew it was a longshot, but I thought I might as well ask.  I suppose it was too much to hope.  Good day, Professor Lupin."  He turned.

"Percy," Remus said quietly.

The boy turned back, but said nothing.  He appeared to be hyperventilating.

"I was sorry to hear about Bill.  I knew him, when we were at school."

To Remus' relief, Percy seemed to deflate.  The insufferable expression melted from his face and he looked down at the floor, blinking rapidly.  He took a deep breath.  "Thank you, Professor."  His voice was quiet.  He removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes quickly.  He looked up at Remus and then quickly away again.  "Bill teased, but he was the only one who understood."

Abruptly he frowned and strode from the room.  Remus let him go, satisfied.  The boy loved his family, and it obviously hurt him to be at odds with them.  If there were a way to reach him, it would be through them.

When his last class ended, Remus stayed in the classroom, staring absently out the window at the heavy rain.  He realized with a shock that November was rapidly wearing away.  December was fast approaching, and the winter holidays would be upon them before they knew it.  He wondered what the Order of the Phoenix would be doing for Christmas.  Would Dumbledore have tasks for them, or would they be free to make their own plans?  And if they were, what would his be?  He sighed, and was surprised by a giggle.  He looked up.  Rain was standing in the door, grinning affectionately at him.

"Long day, Moony?" she asked, coming in to sit on the edge of his desk.  He noticed she'd left the door ajar.

"Long and perplexing," he agreed, and related his conversations with the Weasleys.  As he spoke, she scooted nearer and nearer until his hand, resting on the desktop, was just grazing her robe-clad thigh.  Remus felt himself blushing, but he gazed up at her appreciatively.

"Soundslike your day was more productive than mine, then.  I only managed to argue with Severus again."

He laughed.  "Who won?"

"Vector and Sinistra seemed to think I had."

"Well, he didn't seem pleased to see you at lunch.  What happened between the two of you while I was gone?"

It was innocently asked, and he'd meant it for a jest.  He was taken aback, therefore, by her reaction.  He would swear she started and coloured faintly.  She shifted and sighed.  "Oh, Remus, you wouldn't believe me if I told you.  I don't half understand it myself, and I've been pondering it for almost a week now."

"I know something was wrong," he said slowly, wondering why there was no accompanying rush of jealousy.  "It's funny, I never realized before what a--well, a stabilizer he is to you.  But you've seemed so off-balance this week."

She shook her head and sighed.  "We'll get it sorted," she said, sounding discouraged.  Then she brightened.  "Remus, have I given you a proper welcome home?  I can't seem to remember having done."

He leaned forward and kissed her in response.  She laughed against his mouth and tightened her arms about him.

Several minutes later someone knocked on the office door.  Remus tried to stand up and dumped Rain out of his lap.  She grabbed at the desk and managed to prop herself against it casually as he went to answer the door.

Wait.  Why was it now closed?

Hermione and Ginny stood at the door, biting their lips and exchanging glances.  He felt anything but calm as he invited them in.

"Oh, Professor Rain, you're here, too!" Hermione exclaimed.  "Well, that makes it easier."  She smiled nervously at them.  "Erm, Ginny and I were wondering about something, and we were hoping to ask you--"

"What Hermione means," Ginny interrupted, "is that she was wondering, and I begged her to take me along because I was desperate to be away from Malfoy.  Thanks loads, Professor Rain."

Remus chuckled and Rain grinned, not looking in the least ashamed.  "You remind me of me, Ginny," she said.  "I thought you'd be good for Draco.  He needs to learn what real people are like."

Those lovely Weasley ears.  For the third time that day. Remus watched a pair of them turn pink.  He bit back a snigger and pasted a carefully vague expression on his face.

"Anyway," Hermione said pointedly.  "We were wondering something about when Voldemort was in power, and we thought maybe you'd help us."

Remus raised his eyebrows.  Harry's friends were asking for help?  Then again, it was Hermione.  "Go on," he prompted.

"Well, sir," Hermione said.  "I know the Unforgiveable Curses were in c ommon use in those days, and that Mr Crouch authorized their use against the Death Eaters.  But, sir, at the Quidditch World Cup last year, we saw that it isn't just those curses that are used by the Death Eaters."

Remus nodded slowly.

"But I couldn't find many records of things relating to what spells were used.  So I was curious about that.  And then I started wondering about other forms of torture.  You know, Muggle sorts.  And--well, sir, I just wondered if there wre other trends, besides unexplained disappearances, that could be used to plot a pattern and prove Voldemort is really back."  She looked at him in nervous expectation.

"Well done, Hermione," he said, pleased.  "Yes, there were a lot of horrors besides the Unforgiveables."

"Dumbledore's accounts of the war with Voldemort do mention some of them," Rain put in.

Remus nodded.  "Really, though, Rain and I aren't the ones to help you the most.  Sirius was an Auror, before."

"Not you, sir?"

Ginny gave Hermione a withering look.  "Really, Mione, he's a werewolf.  You ought to know the Ministry has that stupid policy about non-Beings."

Hermione blushed scarlet.  "Oh.  Oh, I'm--I'm so sorry, Professor!  I didn't think."

Ginny snickered.  "Anybody have a Quick Quotes Quill?  That's the only time you'll ever hear Hermione say _that_."

Remus fought a smile.  Ginny Weasley was a great deal more like Ron and the twins than she was Percy.  Sirius was right; Harry couldn't make a better match.

"Tell you what," said Rain, smiling.  "Let's go up to my office for tea.  Ginny, have you seen my dog yet?"

Ginny shook her head, a puzzled expression on her face, but Hermione clapped her hands delightedly.  "Of course!  What an excellent idea!  Let's go!"

~*~

He couldn't, if asked, have explained why he was skulking about the teacher's wing in an against-regulations invisibility cloak on a Friday afternoon.  There would be drinking and gambling back in the Slytherin dungeon, and Pansy had promised a bit more fun than that, if he wanted.  (And of course he wanted, why wouldn't he?  Sh emight be a stupid tart, but she was curvy and he was fifteen.)

But instead he had carried that Weasley brat's books to the library, where he'd plunked them down in front of Granger and the Weasel, who glared at him until he left.

"Good night, Virginia," he'd said over his shoulder, in a drawl he imagined to be suggestive.

She'd gone red and said, "Goodbye, Malfoy," at which he'd sniggered and gone.  But he ducked behind a statue of somebody the perpetually irritated and pulled his invisibility cloak out of his bag.  Then he'd hung about outside until they left, the Weasel for the Great Hall and the girls for Professor Lupin's classroom.  And he'd followed.

He hadn't been able to hear anything of their conversation with the werewolf.  He hadn't wanted to get close enough for Lupin to hear him outside.  When they left Lupin's office, however, with Rain and Lupin, they were discussing a dog named Snuffles, Professor Rain's dog, apparently.  Draco smirked.  He hadn't known Rain was in Lupin's office, but based on some things his father had said, he could guess what had been going on in there.

Since he was curious about the dog anyway--he'd seen it grab Professor Snape's robes the other day--Draco followed them to Rain's office, down the corridor.  When she opened the door, the dog came bounding out, which gave Draco plenty of time to edge around the crowd of idiot Gryffindors and into the office.  Gleefully he perched on a windowseat and watched as they chased the animal back into the room, came in, and closed the door.

Lupin murmured a spell which Draco recognized; it warded against eavesdroppers.  Rain looked at the Weasley girl.

"Ginny, have you heard Harry talk about his godfather?"

Draco wanted to laugh.  Potter?  Tell the girl anything?  Everyone knew she was wasting her time on him.  Ginny shook her head.

A low growl caught his attention, and he looked at the dog.  It was staring straight at him, a menacing snarl on its face.  He swallowed.  Of course.  Invisibility cloaks didn't mask scent.  Damn it.

No one else seemed to notice the dog's behaviour.  "Well, Harry's godfather was convicted of a crime he didn't commit.  We're working to prove his innocence now, but it's a rough job.  You can't reveal to anyone what you're about to learn."

Ginny nodded.  The dog came closer to Draco, walking stiff-legged.

"Snuffles, you can transform now."

The dog didn't look away from Draco.

"Snuffles!"  The Ravenclaw bint sounded exasperated.  "_Sirius!_"

The dog's head swung to look at her.  It heaved a sigh--and in its place stood a dodgy-looking man with longish black hair and a gaunt face.  Draco gasped, then clapped his hands over his mouth.

Fortunately, Ginny Weasley's gasp masked his.  "Sirius Black!" she cried in a low voice.

He nodded and extended a hand.  "Pleased to meet you, Miss Weasley."

She gulped, smiled, and shook his hand.  "And you, sir."

His teeth flashed in a grin.  "Call me Sirius."

Draco knew he should be writing a letter to his father.  He knew Lucius wanted to get his hands on Sirius Black almost as much as the Ministry did.  But his father never answered Draco's letters to say, "Well done, son."  Instead his letters said things like, "Don't embarrass me or you'll regreat it," or "Tell Parkinson her father is being watched."

After Ginny and Hermione had left, saying they were going back to the library, Potty and the Weasel had shown up at Rain's office.  Watching how Black was with Potter, how the criminal's eyes followed the boy's every move with a hungry pride, how he beamed at the Weasel, how Potter looked to Black for approval and received it--this had waked a hard, cold resentment in Draco, but it had also stirred something unexpected in him--yearning.  Virginia's words came back to him--"_Don't you have any friends?"_

No.  A Malfoy needs no friends, he had told Dumbledore.  But somehow he hadn't been able to lie to the girl.  He had no friends, but he wanted one desperately.

So half ten found him lurking outside Professor Snape's door, debating whether or not to knock.  The light was on, and occasionally he could hear the sound of a turning page.  He had been out there for ten minutes when Snape's voice surprised him.

"Whoever you are, why don't you knock and have done?"  He sounded his usual peevish self.  Draco knocked, then wished he had run instead.

The door swung slowly open and he went in.  Snape looked up from his desk.  Seeing Draco, he smiled.

"Well, if it isn't young Master Malfoy," he said, in as pleasant a tone as anyone ever heard from him.  "To what do I owe this honour, Draco?"

Snape was teasing him, but Draco hadn't the nerves to appreciate it.  "Sir," he blurted, already feeling the glow of his house head's forthcoming praise.  "You'll never imagine whom I saw today!"

"I despise guessing games, Draco," Snape said, but gently (at least, for Snape).

Draco didn't care; he hadn't planned to allow him the time to guess.  "Sirius Black is at Hogwarts!  Here!  He's Professor Rain's dog!"

Whatever reaction he had expected, it wasn't this.  Snape's features didn't change expression, but he paled.  He stared at Draco for a long time, gripping the edge of his desk with white-knuckled hands.  Draco began to wish he could squirm uncomfortably in his chair.  After a moment, he realized he wasn't with Lucius, and he _could_ squirm.  He did so, and then wished he had not.

"Who knows this?" Snape said finally, his voice very low.

Draco blinked.  "No one.  Well, practically.  Only Potty and that Mudblood Granger, and the Weasel and his sister."

Snape relaxed fractionally, dismissing the "practically no one" with a smirk.  "None of the Slytherins," he pressed.

Draco shook his head.  "I only just saw him myself.  You know how Professor Rain made me carry that little Mugglelover's books around?"  At Snape's slight nod, he continued.  "Well, I'd just left her in the library when she and Granger came stampeding out of there like the low-class hicks they are.  I was bored, so I followed."

"They didn't notice you?"  Snape seemed amused, but his face was grim.

Draco gulped.  His father had said no one was to know about the invisibility cloak.  "I--I was careful."

"Hmm."

"Anyway, they went to see the werewolf, and Rain was there, too."  Draco started to smirk, then remembered what his father had hinted about Rain and Snape, and quickly wiped his face.  "A minute later, they all came out of Lupin's office and went up to Rain's rooms.  And that black dog changed into Sirius Black."

Snape was nodding slowly.  He appeared to be deep in thought.  He was still pale, but didn't seem particularly upset.  Draco frowned.

"Sir?  Don't you hate Sirius Black?"

The head of Slytherin House gave him a speculative look.  "Oh, I do indeed, Draco.  And--"  He broke off and leaned forward to stare intently at him.  "I am going to trust you with most important secrets."  He leaned back and folded his hands in front of him.  Draco felt a thrill of anticipation run through him.  Lucius had said things which made Draco wonder why his father seemed to dislike Snape.  Would Draco finally learn why?

"Sir?"

"You must understand, Draco, what I am about to entrust to you can never leave this room.  I am placing the ultimate faith in you."  He paused.  "I know you are worthy."

A tendril of fear snaked into the anticipation.  What was Snape going to tell him?  What could he tell him that was this important?  "You know you can trust me, Professor."

Snape smiled as if to say he had never doubted him, and folded his arms across his chest.  "I knew Black was here."  Draco opened his mouth, but Snape held up a hand, forestalling questions.  "I am allowed to stay here only because I pretend to be Dumbledore's pawn," he continued.  "Dumbledore, Lupin, even the Ministry, believe I am a _tame snake_."  His mouth twisted as if those words were bitter.  "Fools.  None of them have ever grasped the real essence of Slytherin House."

Draco felt as though he should say something to that, but his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth.  He watched Snape in silence.

"I go to their meetings, I listen to their plans, and then when my master calls, I go and tell him everything.  Voldemort wants Black dead, and he has promised me that kill.  I am content to wait for the Dark Lord's timing.  But Lucius--well."  He smiled at Draco--a private smile, a warm smile.  "You know as well as I do that Lucius can be…a trifle heavy-handed at times.  It's why he was never as good at Potions as you are.  I don't want Lucius to move too quickly and scare Black off before I get the opportunity I need."

Draco nodded and smirked as if he understood and appreciated everything Snape had said.  In truth, his thoughts were awhirl.  So Snape was acting the double agent?  No wonder Lucius had told Draco to watch him!  But…it sounded as though Snape had truly chosen one side.

Yet if that were the case, he would have been better off if he'd simply told Lucius he was on their side.  Then again, perhaps Snape was simply becoming too important to Voldemort, someone who posed a threat to the Malfoy position at Voldemort's right hand.  But Snape was still speaking.

"It's a dangerous position to be in, of course.  The ones I betray will try to kill me in the end.  Perhaps they will even succeed."  Privately, Draco agreed; his Head of House was likely a marked man.  Snape's gaze sharpened, became measuring.  "You're a clever young man, Draco.  Ambitious, tricky, quick-witted--all the things Voldemort admires.  I know you probably can't wait until you leave school and join the fight."

Well, yes, he could wait, actually, but Draco didn't see any point in mentioning it.

"I could use a protégé.  Someone who would learn my secrets, meet my connections and gain their trust.  Someone who could step into my place if I were…removed.  Someone who would be equally indispensible to whichever side he chose to aid."

Draco felt his pulse quicken.  "Are you--do you mean--"

"Who else?"  Snape smiled.  "You're the best student I have.  You're a prefect and a likely candidate for Head Boy.  Who better to take over for me if I am gone?"

Draco tried to contain his smile, to keep the corners of his mouth straight, but even the years of his father's training couldn't restrain his pleasure at being so highly complimented by his Head of House.

"Thank you, sir!  I'm sure I won't fail you!"

Snape nodded and held out a hand, and they shook.  As easily as that, they had reached an agreement.  As the professor released his hand, Draco felt the bargain seal; this was a wizard's agreement, and it would be kept.  An icicle of fear slid down his spine, but he didn't shiver.  It was too late now.

Snape stood.  "The first thing to do is introduce you to Black.  You'll have to make him trust you.  Lupin will be of use to you there; the fool is always willing to believe the best of someone.  We'll get him on your side."  He smirked.  "Come along, Draco.  And remember, whatever happens, you can always trust me."

Draco stood up, too.  He _could trust Professor Snape, he knew.  There were so many things Snape had covered over from Draco's father.  He had allowed Draco to do extra work to keep his high marks in Potions; he had had a word with Flitwick that time Draco was injured in Third Year; he had said nothing of Draco's flirtations with girls of other houses._

While they waited for Professor Rain to open the door, Draco stood completely still, slouching in what he hoped looked like easy confidence.  Snape tapped quietly, yet there seemed to be no hesitation in his manner.  He was completely self-possessed, no matter what happened around him.  He always had been.  Draco had always envied this.

When Rain did open the door, she looked surprised.  "Severus?  It's a bit late for social calls."

"Spare me the sarcasm, Katraina.  You know Mister Malfoy."

She raised her eyebrows at him.  "Oh, yes.  Come in, Draco, Severus."  She stood aside to let them enter.

The black dog was curled on the hearth.  When they entered, it glanced at Severus, then put its head down again.  A moment later it lifted its head again and stared straight at Draco, its head cocked to one side.

_Shit!_  The dog recognized Draco's scent.  He tried to ignore it and focus on Snape.  It was important to dupe Dumbledore's followers into believing them.

"--and Draco has expressed a desire to aid our efforts."

"Really," Rain said, her voice noncommital.  "And he has sworn to secrecy?"  The look in her eyes was a challenge.  She seemed intrigued, skeptical, amused.

The amusement stung.  Did she think he couldn't be trusted?  Honour, she had said before.  Well, he'd show her honour.  "I swear by my name and my ancestors that I won't betray you, or may my wand be broken and my name struck from the book."  Oops.  That was a stronger oath than he had meant to use.  And there was absolutely no wiggle room in an oath like that.

Rain and Snape were both staring at him, Rain with astonishment--or horror?--Snape with an unreadable expression.  But the dog, to Draco's surprise, put his nose against Draco's hand, then looked up at Rain.

She sighed.  "Very well, Sirius."

An instant later the black dog was gone and Sirius Black was looking down at him.  "So this is Malfoy's get," he said, his voice a growl.

"This is Draco Malfoy," Rain replied, her expression stern.  "He is Severus' best student, and one of our fifth-year Prefects."

Black was inspecting Draco with piercing eyes.  He held out a hand.  "Name's Black.  Sirius Black."  His voice was still a growl, and Draco wondered if he just always sounded so much like a dog.

"I know who you are," Draco replied.  "My father--"  But he stopped, because his father wasn't here, was he?  Draco had moved beyond Lucius, had taken this step on his own.  Besides, Rain didn't give a damn what his father thought.  He grasped Black's hand firmly in his own.  "I've read about you in the papers."  He saw Snape give him an odd look.

"I've seen you play Quidditch," Black said, surprising him.  "You've got a lot of talent, Malfoy."

Draco stared at him.  What did he want?  "Thanks," he said, knowing he sounded insolent.

"I've heard a lot about you, from Harry, and Rain here, and Arabella."

"Who?" Draco asked, surprised.

"Oh, perhaps it wasn't Arabella.  She seemed to think one of her cats had taken to you, though."

"I don't know what you're on about," Draco said carelessly, though a nagging in the back of his head suggested that might not be entirely true.

"Ah.  My mistake."  Black looked at Snape.  "So.  We have a Malfoy on our side, then.  That helps us, but it puts you in a bit of a fix, doesn't it?  Then again, I daresay you're used to that."

Snape grimaced.  "Mind your own concerns, Black.  Fudge isn't going to set a Dementor on _me_ if he sees me."

Black grimaced in his turn.  "You were upset about Barty Crouch.  It's sad to think you relish the idea of a Dementor kissing me.  After all, I'm your ally."

Snape looked at him coolly for a moment, then said, "Ally?"

Black snorted and turned away, but Rain stayed him with a hand on his arm.  She turned and touched Severus, too; Draco thought the Potions Master flinched.

"Please," Rain said.  "Please.  You are both capable of civility.  Can't we put our differences aside?"

Draco stared at her, but both men nodded obediently.  Satisfied, she turned to smile at him.  "I'm so glad you've joined us, Draco.  We can use your help."

"I won't betray my father, if that's what you think!" he burst out.  Then he bit his lips shut, face burning.

Her smile didn't waver.  "I would never ask that, Draco.  Never."

~*~


End file.
